Wandering Children
by Myshawolf
Summary: SH22. Joint Author fic with Angelina 809. Relates to my series. Imagine Holmes and Moriarty having kids. No not with each other! You people are sick! Anyways, Got that mental picture? Now what would happen if they meet? Completed! About time!
1. Chapter 1

Myshawolf and Angelina 809 walk out. Myshawolf pulls out her trademark notebook: Hey everyone. Angelina and I decided to do a joint fic dealing with any kids we thought Holmes and Moriarty would have.  
  
Angelina: This is a sequel to Masquerade, And The Winner Is.., and Figlio Perduto. Please read them in that order.  
  
MW: Yeah, The Winner Is is Angelina's fic so please check it out. We figure that with two authors, we should get double the reviews this way.  
  
Nightmare walks out: You recovered quickly.  
  
Angelina: Don't you have a remote to get?  
  
Nightmare: In good time. When are you going to work on Atlantis?  
  
MW: (shrugs) Whenever! (To her readers) Enjoy our story.  
  
Angelina and Myshawolf : On with the Show. (Nightmare hits her head against the wall)  
  
Wandering Children  
  
Chapter 1 - Cats And Mice  
  
James sat high up in the flies among the ropes as Erika had taught him how. He looked down on the stage as he watched his lovely wife teach their daughter Christine how to fight. His mind couldn't believe that the raven haired girl would be turning nineteen soon. A smile touched his lips as Erika began to rattle off instruction in French. Soon the two touch their swords and began to fight. James felt Nadir join his side. The two smiled faintly to each other before looking back at the fight.  
  
"She is learning fast." Nadir commented, "Erika is very proud of her."  
  
"I heard she disarmed you yesterday. Getting slow, old friend?" James replied jokingly.  
  
"Since neither one knows you are here yet. I can safely assume my nephew has yet to learn when to keep his mouth shut." Nadir chuckled.  
  
"You can't expect kids these days to be quiet about things like that. Michael and Aidan constantly remind me when they are faster at a heist than me." James grinned, "That's when I remind them who is the Napoleon of Crime."  
  
"Where are the boys anyways? I noticed how quiet it was up here without them." Nadir observed as Erika disarmed her daughter with a quick and fluid motion.  
  
James smirked, "Doing something for me while I'm here. Their grandfather is watching out for them."  
  
"I can assume they will be tangling with Monsieur Holmes soon enough."  
  
"You can. I only gave them one piece of advice this morning before leaving them." James smiled as his wife and daughter began to head back to their underground home.  
  
"Which was?"  
  
"Don't get caught. Now I want to surprise my lovely wife. Au revoir, Nadir."  
  
"Au revoir, Professor. I'll have everything ready."  
  
James winked at the head of security as he headed towards the stage. Nadir smiled as he watched the man go. He couldn't object to the man's profession since he made Erika very happy. He also kept her happy for over twenty years. Nadir turned and headed to the stage to get everything ready for tonight.  
  
*********************88888888888888888888888****************************  
  
Erika tried not to giggle as her husband lead her up the stairs to the main stage. She just couldn't help the goofy smile on her face as she thought of James trying to surprise her. He always did things like this when he was away for long periods of time. Tonight, he had woken her up in her chair where she had fallen asleep trying to wait up for him. A simple kiss was all it took to wake up her system. Then he slipped a blindfold around her eyes and whisked her away from the underground house. Erika sniffed the air as they entered the main stage area. The air smelt of melted wax and flowers.  
  
"James, what are you up to?" Erika asked as he placed a hand on her waist.  
  
"Nothing at all. I want to give something that you wanted since our first year together." James smirked at her perceptiveness.  
  
"I wonder what that is." Erika remarked, honestly stumped.  
  
James use to dote on her their first year together and their first year married. There wasn't anything that he missed during that time. Erika heard James chuckle as he stopped her. Erika frowned because he was amused that he finally stumped her at something. She continued to ponder this point until she felt him begin to remove the blindfold. Erika closed her eyes as she felt the slip of fabric fall away from her face. Gradually she opened them and gasped.  
  
The stage was covered with candles of every shape and size. The area was a blaze of light, giving it a romantic glow. Erika looked around speechless at the sight of all the candles and the beauty it gave everything. She gracefully turned as a smile flitted across her face. James sucked in his breath at the sight of his lovely wife a washed in candle light. He walked towards her as if in a trance. Erika stared at James as he came towards her. Gently he pulled her close and kissed her. Erika sank into the kiss. Twenty years did little to dim the passion between them.  
  
Then she heard the swish of a blade as it is pulled from it sheath. Erika pulled away to see James smirk at her before stepping away with a blade in his hand. Sensing a challenge, Erika turned around to grab the other sword she knew would be there. A smile touched her lips as she remembered how many times she use to challenge James to a duel during the first year of their marriage. He always laughed at her before kissing her senseless. Erika recognized the practice swords as Nadir's.  
  
"Does Khan know you have them?" Erika asked as she took a few practice swipes through the air, testing the feel of the sword in her hand.  
  
"No he doesn't, but I think Danesh knows where they are." James shrugged before giving her a predatory smile, "Ready, cherie?"  
  
"Are you ready to be taught, Professor?" Erika resorted back, "I won't go easy on you."  
  
"I was just about to say the same thing, my siren." James saluted with his sword then went into his stance.  
  
Erika smiled at him and went into a stance as well. She knew she was at a slight disadvantage since she was wearing her long night gown while James was still dressed in his day clothes. However, Nadir taught her to use every disadvantage to her advantage.  
  
After a few moments of staring at each other, James made the first move. Erika easily blocked and countered with an attack of her own. The two thrust and parried around the candlelit stage. Neither one dared to look away from the other's eyes as they traveled around the stage. The only noise that was heard was the clashing of metal as the swords struck each other and pulled away.  
  
James found himself getting distracted by his wife's fierce beauty as the candlelight touched her face. His finger itched to touch her face and skin, but he had to see this fight through. He only hoped that he affected her as much as she did him.  
  
Erika took a moment to admire her husband's physique as their swords clashed and sparked in front of her face. Part way through the fight, James had torn off his coat and vest leaving only his white shirt and black pants. Erika felt her stomach tighten as he continued to move the same grace as he did twenty years ago. She felt her arm growing tired from the long fight.  
  
As their sword crossed closely bring their faces near each other. James grabbed the back of her head and pulled her into a deep kissed. His hand fisted in her hair. Erika dropped her sword to wrap her arms around his neck. James threw his aside to free his other arm and wrapped in around her waist and dipped her low as he deepen the kiss. There they stood in the shimmering candlelight, showing how they had missed each other while they lived out their lives doing what they do best.  
  
********************88888888888888888888********************************  
  
The moon was high in the New London sky as two figures quickly worked open a small piece of metal paneling. The silver moonlight provided all the light they needed to work from. As soon as the paneling was removed, one of the figures in black plugged in a portable computer and frantically began to hack his way in. His emerald green eyes flashed as he quickly broke down firewall through firewall. A gleam of mischief entered his eyes as he got closer and closer to his prize.  
  
The other man just shook his head and began to rewire the whole security system. Effortlessly he began to switch the wires around. His steel grey eyes began to calculate how long they would need to get in and get back out. Looking up he turned to his partner.  
  
"Which way are we going in, Michael?" The grey eyed man asked quickly.  
  
"The air vent I think was Dad's plan?" Michael commented as he looked up from the computer screen, "You could radio Grandpa, Aidan. He would know."  
  
Aidan nodded and did so. After Aidan repeated his question, Fenwick sighed over the air and stated, "You boys need to listen to your father when he tells you something. Michael is right. You are to go through the vent."  
  
Aidan nodded and went back to rewiring the system, "So we have about five minutes to get in and five to get out."  
  
Michael smiled as he finished changing the security pass words, "More than enough time for us."  
  
Fenwick chuckled at their overconfidence, "Then I better not see any Yardies coming while you work. Now get moving."  
  
Fenwick cut out the transmission. Michael turned to his brother and asked, "Where is Dad again?"  
  
"Currently fighting with Mom." Aidan answered as he finished his job with the wires, "You know how they are."  
  
Michael sighed as he moved towards the vent entrance, "Our parents have some strange ideas on what a romantic date is."  
  
*************88888888***************************************************  
  
Mirielle gave a satisfied sigh and she picked up the freshly poured cup of coffee. Taking a deep breath, she nearly cried as she smelled the exotic aroma of the coffee beans. She loved her coffee break. After chasing criminals and ruffians on the graveyard shift, this was her escape from all that. Mirielle took a reverent sip and wonder what was keeping her brother.  
  
Casually she brushed a piece of her sandy blonde hair out of her face. Her violet eyes swept over the small diner for some sign of her brother's arrival. She also enjoyed meeting her younger brother and talking shop. Mirielle adjusted her Yard badge when a few new customers glanced her way then quickly walked out. The waitress gave the young detective a grateful look and Mirielle smiled back. She loved her job.  
  
Suddenly a young man burst into the diner and smiled at Mirielle. Quickly he plopped down into the chair across from his sister. His brown flew about his head showing his sister that he must have ran the whole way to the diner. His blue eyes gleamed with merriment which means he made a break in a case.  
  
Mirielle spoke first, "You cracked the case, John?"  
  
"Too right I did. I just sent Watson back to Baker Street with my findings. I hope Dad is happy with the results." John grinned.  
  
"He will be. Mom was telling me he was getting frustrated because things weren't moving fast enough."  
  
"So catch any criminals yet?"  
  
"Nay, Just scared a few away is all." Mirielle informed her brother, "Moriarty's gang hasn't pulled anything in a while. It's making me nervous. Mom is a little worried too"  
  
"The Chief Inspector is always worried about something." John joked, "Don't worry they'll show up sooner or later. You just have to keep an eye out for them."  
  
"I know." Mirielle started but was interrupted by her wrist com.  
  
"All units, there is a security breach at 10 Downing Street. All available units report."  
  
"This is patrol car 23 responding." Mirielle shouted as she raced out of the diner.  
  
As she revved up the engine, John jumped into the passenger's seat next to her. Mirielle gave him a questioning look. John just shrugged and motioned for her to get going. Mirielle pulled out and raced to the scene of the crime. Grabbing on to the handle above the door, John muttered a small prayer.  
  
"Scared, brother?" Mirielle teased.  
  
"Hell yeah. Who taught you how to drive?" John shouted at her.  
  
Mirielle smiled brightly and remarked, "Mom."  
  
John grumbled as he held on to dear life. Looking out the window, he noticed something strange on one of the roofs. Two men watching the Yardies arriving at Downing Street.  
  
"Mirielle, go back! I think I found our culprits." John yelled.  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Back there."  
  
"Hang on! We are going for a visit."  
  
Michael and Aidan watched the swarming Yardies a few rooftops away. They chuckled to themselves as they watch the detectives try to piece together the puzzle of who did this. Michael lowered the binoculars and wondered if they should have left their calling card. He turned to his brother to ask about that when he spotted a stray cruiser that was heading towards them.  
  
"About time one of them saw us." Aidan smirked as he saw them as well.  
  
"I'm surprised. I was thinking the Chief Inspector was losing her touch at picking observant candidates. Which way do you want?" Michael asked in a slightly amused voice.  
  
"The low road, since I got the plans." Aidan reasoned.  
  
"So I get the high road. Are we racing to Perros then?" Michael sighed.  
  
"Of course."  
  
The two brothers waited as the cruiser came down for a landing. Just as the door opened, they began to run. Michael leaped to the next roof top while Aidan jumped over the edge of the roof. Mirielle cursed as she exited the vehicle. John stepped out as well. He pulled out a copy of their father's cane and jumped over the edge of the roof. Mirielle groaned. Mom was going to kill her if John got hurt.  
  
After a few minutes of debating, she chased after the other suspect. She had to admire how effortlessly he moved and jumped from roof to roof. Mirielle picked up her speed knowing that there was a gap in the roof coming up that was too large for anyone to safely jump.  
  
Michael skidded to a halt when he reached the last roof's edge. There was no way he could jump that. He turned around to come face to face with a beautiful young female Yardie. Her long sandy blonde hair flew about her face, providing a beautiful curtain to her violet eyes. Michael had a hard time remembering how to breathe.  
  
"Freeze." Mirielle shouted at the masked man in front of her as she drew her ionser, "Don't move. New Scotland Yard."  
  
"A pity," Michael answered as he pulled out a cane and revealed it to be a sword, "I was hoping you weren't real."  
  
"What do you expect to do with that?" Mirielle wondered incredibly, "I'll shoot you before you can stab me with that."  
  
"Wanna bet?" Michael laughed, "Take your shot, Inspector."  
  
"You asked for it." Mirielle shrugged as she fired.  
  
Michael swung the sword. The blast hit the blade of the sword and went barreling back towards Mirielle. The blast knocked Mirielle off her feet and on to her butt. When she opened her eyes, she found herself restrained and staring into a pair of deep green eyes. She barely felt the man grabbed her hand and kiss it through the mask that covered his lips.  
  
"It was a pleasure to meet you, Inspector Holmes. I hope our paths cross again." Michael told her before disappearing over the edge of the roof.  
  
Mirielle just sat there, tied up and in a daze. What the Zed just happened? He deflected the shot easily? How did he do that? How the hell did he do that?! Mirielle wasn't sure what she was supposed to feel about this.  
  
She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't even noticed that John had landed the cruiser by her until he was in front of her, waving his hands in her face. Mirielle suddenly felt her face begin to heat up. John sat down in front of him. A few minutes passed in silence.  
  
"The other one got away from me." John reported, "I only lost him. He didn't get the jump on me."  
  
"Shut up, baby brother."  
  
"Hey I'm dumb enough to let a criminal use my weapon against me." John remarked.  
  
"No, but at least I didn't eat a Christmas tree ornament thinking it was a real cookie." Mirielle shot back as she tried to cancel out the restraining bars.  
  
"I was five." John defended, "Besides it smelled just like a real gingerbread man. How was I to know it was a fake?"  
  
"Maybe by asking Mom?" Mirielle replied sweetly as the restraining bars disappeared, "Yes!"  
  
"So what now?" John asked as he stood up.  
  
"We go see Mom and Dad. That guy had a light French accent. Let's see if they have any ideas."  
  
John and Mirielle trudged up the steps of 221B. Their feet hit each of the seventeen steps with growing disappointment. Mirielle more grim because of the fact she had been bested and John because he had lost his man. Finally, they reached the door but they didn't even have to turn the knob for their father was standing there smirking,  
  
"Hello children, why so down?" he teased as they slowly walked into the room. Mirielle plopped on a chair and John paced up and down the room.  
  
"Spill it," Beth said as she sat down next to her daughter. "You can't hide anything from us."  
  
Mirielle let out a loud sigh and began, "Well, I was meeting John at the coffee shop this morning when I get a call on my communicator for 10 Downing Street. John hops in the car," she shot a look at her brother, "and we go off. All the other Yardies rush to the scene where as John and I spot two guys on a roof. We landed the hovercar and go after 'em, he took one and I took the other. So, I finally get him cornered and I'm ready to just bring him in when he pulls out a sword, a sword for God's sake! So I fire a shot and he reflects it back at me. What is up with that?" she asked as the story ended.  
  
"The only person who I know that could do that is the Phantom," said Beth as she looked to Sherlock. John immediately stopped pacing and looked at his sister whose frown disappeared for a moment as they began to laugh.  
  
"Come to think of it, it does sound like something the Phantom would do," he nodded slowly, stroking his chin with his hand. "But it is rather odd that he should show up in New London."  
  
"Oh and where is this Phantom usually?" John managed to say after calming down from his hearty laugh.  
  
"Paris," Beth and Sherlock stated at the same time. Smiling to one another they watched their children's eyes widen and get a mischievous twinkle as though they were thinking the same thing. Mirielle perked up and John walked towards the door.  
  
Getting up Mirielle smirked, "I guess we're off the Paris."  
  
Mirielle and John rushed out of their parent's home and over to their own flats on Montague Street. They both lived in the same building but different numbers; however saw each other sparingly during the day.  
  
Meanwhile at 221B Sherlock and Beth pondered over a few things. "I wonder if Erika is in New London," said Lestrade as she sipped her tea.  
  
"No, it couldn't be," said Holmes, "She wouldn't be the one doing the robbing. Besides, she would have told you. To build on that fact Mirielle and John wouldn't have each needed to chase one of them if it were only Erika. I am going to say it was either Moriarty himself or their children."  
  
Beth looked at her husband and sighed, "Well, you haven't been wrong in twenty years so I am going to suppose you aren't wrong now," she smirked as she made her way to the kitchen. 


	2. Chapter 2

Angelina walks out with Mysha's notebook: Mysha couldn't be here since she is sick in bed. *Sneezing is heard off to the side* So I'm doing this solo. Here is chapter 2. We are trying our best with the spelling and grammar. Just remember we aren't English majors here. Oh well. I'm still trying to survive my math class.  
  
Nightmare walks in eating an apple: Can we just get on with the story? These people have been waiting.  
  
Angelina: Now I know why Mysha makes a break for my 'house' when she can. As MW would say, On With the Show!  
  
Wandering Children  
  
Chapter 2- Open Case  
  
James was the first to be awakened by the alarm. Turning over, he glared at the flashing light. Looking back, Erika reached out for him in her sleep. Regretfully, James slipped from the bed. For once, he wanted to sleep in with his wife next to him. Maybe tomorrow morning he could have his wish. Leaning over he gently kissed her temple. Walking to the door of the room, James grabbed a shirt from the floor and pulled it on. Looking through he spotted his two sons trying to shut off the alarm. James stepped through and made sure the door was shut behind him. There was no need to wake Erika just yet.  
  
After watching his son bicker over the alarm system which Michael eventually shut off, James cleared his throat. Both boys jumped and slowly turned around to face their father. James was still surprised at how similar yet different they look from each other. Michael's black hair was curly and long, much to James' displeasure. Yet Aidan being the elder of the twins, prefer a shorter cut although the curls made it much shorter. James fought the smile when he remembered how Erika would tell him that she was glad they looked like him.  
  
Just then James noticed how quiet his boys were. Something was wrong for them not to be bragging about how the job went. In fact Michael was playing with the button on his cuff while Aidan's foot was tapping the floor quietly. Did they fail to get the information? James wondered. Happy that he had the foresight to close the door so he wouldn't wake up Erika, James stared at his sons.  
  
"Where is the disk?" James asked them in a very calm voice, too calm of a voice.  
  
Aidan relaxed a little as he pulled out the disk to hand his father, "Right here, Papa."  
  
Michael relaxed as well, "I've checked it out. Everything you wanted is on there."  
  
"Excellent," James smiled proudly as he took the disk, "And you left the original behind like I instructed?"  
  
"Yes, sir" both boys nodded eagerly.  
  
Knowing they had their guard down, James went for the kill, "So why are you two so nervous? You weren't followed, were you?"  
  
Aidan knew they were busted and nodded. Even Michael stared at the ground. James felt his temper begin to grow. They picked up a tail. How in zed did they do that? He taught them better than that.  
  
"When?" James bit out.  
  
"Grandpapa heard it on the Yardie radio in Perros." Michael stated softly, "They are the same ones that we ran into at Downing Street"  
  
"They didn't see your face, did they?" James queried trying to keep a tight hold on his temper.  
  
"No, sir. We had our masks on." Aidan assured his father.  
  
"At least you did that right!" James growled, "Of all the stupid, careless things to do! You bring New Scotland Yard here!!!"  
  
"They didn't exactly track us. It seems the head detective decided that one of his star officers should check out a lead with an outside consultant." Michael reported.  
  
"Holmes." James growled and walked right up to his sons, "If Sherlock Holmes comes here to poke his nose around. I'll make sure he finds you. In pieces!"  
  
"It's not him, Papa." Aidan defended. "It's a Holmes but not him. Grandpapa would have killed us if it was him."  
  
Michael's face began to turn red as he thought of his violet eyed inspector and how her badge read Holmes. Could it be her? Did he slip up that she was able to follow him? Michael looked up as his brother was explaining how they could be the kids of their father's arch enemy.  
  
"May be we could just lay low?" Michael suggested, "Eventually she'll stop poking her pretty nose around and go back to New London."  
  
James turned on him in an instant, "I'm going to lay low while two detectives snoop around my home?! I want them gone immediately!"  
  
"What is all this yelling about?" Erika asked as she stepped out the bedroom. Her lithe body wrapped into a sapphire blue robe. All three men turned to her as she glided to her husband's side. She flashed a smile at her sons before turning to her husband, "Well?"  
  
"They picked up a tail." James resorted angrily.  
  
Erika places a calming hand on her husband's arm, "Is that all?" Before James could respond, she turned to her sons and spoke firmly, "You have some work to do then. Since you two were foolish enough to bring them, you need to get rid of them."  
  
Aidan opened his mouth to speak, but Michael said something instead, "They don't know us right? Maybe we can befriend her and find out more about her um mission. Besides she may not see much around here if we cloud up her gorgeous violet eyes with dead ends."  
  
Aidan glared at his brother like he grew a second head. What was Michael saying? Pretty nose, gorgeous eyes? Hell, he was convinced the Yardie was a girl when Grandpapa wouldn't confirm it. Aidan glanced to see if his father noticed the slip up on Michael's part. James was considering Michael's idea rather then his words. Looking back at his brother, Aidan noticed that Michael was turning a very bright red. Aidan noticed his mother staring at Michael as well. Did she notice it too? Erika has a ghost of a smile flitting around her mouth.  
  
James's broke through everyone's thought, "No."  
  
"James!" Erika scolded him. Aidan smiled as his petite mother turned and glared at his tall father. His father was normally fearless when dealing with rivals, rascals, snitches, and even the law itself, but would be abashed when called to carpet by his wife. Erika continued on, "I think we should let them handle it how they choose to. It's their problem. Don't you agree?"  
  
James didn't answer immediately which prompted Erika to elbow him in the ribs. Finally he grunted, "Fine. But I want them out of Paris by the annual Masquerade. Is that understood?"  
  
Michael and Aidan nodded eagerly, thankful for their mother's interference. Erika smiled brightly as she kissed her husband's lips tenderly. James was smiling afterwards as well. Turning gracefully, Erika threw out her arms and smiled at her returning sons.  
  
"Now we have settled that. Come and give your mother a hug." Erika greeted them as Aidan and Michael smiled at her.  
  
**************888888888888888888****************************************  
  
John and Mirielle climbed out of the hover car in front of the massive Opera House. They stretched their legs for a moment before approaching the building. They climbed up the steps and pushed open the doors. "Let's find this Phantom," said the ever so cynical John as he rolled his eyes.  
  
"Yes, let's," said Mirielle as she already started looking at the doors and hinges.  
  
John rolled his eyes again and then pulled her away from the door, "Do you really think that this mysterious phantom thing would use the front doors?" he asked his sister who shrugged in response. Straitening out her shirt collar Mirielle went back to looking for evidence while John probed around for people. "Hello? Anyone here?" he opened a door to a hallway on the left side.  
  
A young Middle-Eastern man came out, "Bonjour," he greeted John, "may I ask who you are?" he said looking over John once.  
  
"John Holmes," he replied taking in the man's appearance as they shook hands. "Do you know of a supposed 'phantom' that lurks here in Paris?" he asked hoping that this bright faced young man would know what he was talking about.  
  
"My name is Akeem, and yes I know of the Phantom. However, he is not supposed. He's as real as you and me. Even more so if you think about it," he smirked towards the obviously English John. "And who is that?" he motioned towards Mirielle who was on her hands and knees basically checking every carpet strand out of place.  
  
"That would be Mirielle Holmes, my sister," he sighed. "I'm afraid she's caught up in her little world right now, but when she realizes that no phantom would use the front door she'll be pleased to meet you."  
  
Just then Mirielle jumped up with a laugh that resembled a bark, "John! Look," she waved him over. On the floor there was mud, "it's consistent with the mud on Downing Street. Our culprits are here! I know it!" she smiled widely as she took out a plastic bag for her evidence.  
  
John bent over the foot print. "It seems to be of a tall man, about six foot three," he thought for a minute, "maybe even six foot four. He is of muscular build and swift," he nodded his head and stood. "We should have taken a print from the scene," he sighed regretfully.  
  
Akeem looked at the two siblings. They were definitely just like their father, or at least just like how his uncle described their father. "I should be going," he abruptly said, "Pleasure to meet you both," he smiled and then turned around and headed for his uncle's home, "I should tell him," he said to himself as he exited the building and headed for the house.  
  
"Strange one," mused John as they continued to look for another set of footprints. "He was so cryptic, I must find out what he meant."  
  
"Shh," scolded Mirielle as she crawled along the floor. She looked rather funny, on her hands and knees, one hand holding a magnifying glass, the other steadying her as she crawled. As she looked, those green eyes flashed in her mind again. They were entrancing and almost inescapable; she shook it off and continued to crawl along the carpet.  
  
As Mirielle crawled John heard a noise coming from the auditorium. He opened the door a little and poked his head through. There was a raven haired girl on the stage practicing a capella scales. Her voice was crystal clear as she stood on the stage in a blue velvet dress. He slowly stepped into the auditorium and stood in the shadows unnoticed. He saw her leave the stage area and go off to the side. Then, a man walked onto the stage. He was blonde and about six feet tall. He looked frustrated as he ran around the stage. John approached him slowly and demurely to make sure he wasn't getting himself into any trouble. "Bonjour," John muttered as he approached the stage.  
  
The man's angry brown eyes turned to him, "Bonjour," he replied quickly. "What do you want?" he rudely asked as his eyes searched the stage and the audience.  
  
"We're tracking a robbery and we happened to trace the perpetrators to the opera house. Has anyone been acting strangely? Possibly avoiding other people, being more secretive than usual?" John asked impatiently, his natural yearning to be investigating taking over little by little.  
  
"I'd check out Noir. She's always avoiding everyone; secretive too," he smirked. "She's been avoiding everyone lately. I think she's up to something, but I can't be sure. However, no one can trust that girl."  
  
"And why is that?" quickly interjected John, his mind begging for more information.  
  
The blonde man, or Dante, looked at John and smirked, "Because she's a woman, a dangerous woman at that. Besides, no one can trust a prima donna, no matter how docile they seem."  
  
Dante walked away leaving John on the stage alone to contemplate his thoughts. As John paced Mirielle continued to crawl in the lobby.  
  
Dante approached the lobby doors. As he swung the door open easily he saw her on the floor, her keen features forming an intellectual profile. Her violet eyes glimmering in the dim lighting while her sandy hair encircled her face like a halo and dangled down slightly in front of her as she hunched over.  
  
"Bonjour mademoiselle," Dante said putting on his most charming voice and facial expression.  
  
She waved her hand at him a murmured, "Hi," as she continued to investigate. Dante, thoroughly disgusted with her total lack of attention to him walked out of the Opera House and down the stairs. He scowled as he walked down the street thinking of ways to attract her attention.  
  
Michael walked upstairs and sighed a large sigh of relief. 'Now,' he thought, 'what to do about Father?' He decided the only way to clear his mind was to take a walk. As he walked he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Upon reaching the lobby he threw the doors open and started towards the stairs. Suddenly, he tripped forward and almost fell over something, looking down he saw someone on the floor.  
  
"Je regrette," he sputtered out embarrassedly, then he asked trying to lighten the obviously tense atmosphere,"Is Buquet getting anal about the carpets?"  
  
"I don't know any Buquet," said Mirielle as she looked up, "Now would you please take your foot off my hand so I can get back to work?" she scoffed trying to get her hand out from underneath his foot.  
  
"Oh!" he said, "I'm sorry."  
  
After tripping he didn't even realize he had stepped on her hand. As she looked up the shock hit him, 'It's her,' he thought to himself. He offered his hand to help her up and then tried to remain as calm as possible. She jumped up without taking his hand and wiped herself off.  
  
"It's okay," she said politely enough to pass off that she cared. The girl who was about five feet tall and six inches looked up at his face, which was five inches higher than her own, and then frantically looked down.  
  
"Blast it!" she sneered, "where did my magnifying glass go?"  
  
After a frustrated expression she got back on her knees and began to crawl around on the floor again.  
  
"Where did it go?" she said as she looked underneath a chair.  
  
Michael chuckled to himself as he got on his hands and knees and began to look around as well. They looked for several minutes until Michael found it underneath a bookcase that was basically ornamental.  
  
"Mademoiselle," he said clutching it in his hand for several moments, "I found it."  
  
Mirielle looked to him and then ran over quickly, "Thanks or in Paris, merci. Say, has anyone been acting strangely lately? Avoiding the other member's of the company? Anyone more secretive than usual?"  
  
Just as Michael was trying to figure out a proper excuse for himself, the other Holmes child came into the room.  
  
"Mirielle, I talked to some guy and he said to -" he stopped talking and looked to Michael and then back to Mirielle. Mirielle was carelessly leaning up against the wall as this strange man handed her what appeared to be her magnifying glass. Stepping forward John asked as he sized up the stranger, "And you are?"  
  
"Michael," he replied showing no inclination of giving a last name.  
  
John gave this Michael person a suspicious glance and then turned to his sister. He was about to say something to her when he spied a young girl running into the lobby towards them.  
  
"Michael!!" a beautiful voice shouted from across the lobby.  
  
Michael's smile grew as he turned to see a raven haired young lady running down the main stairs. Her blue dress billowed out behind her as she gracefully crossed the lobby to her brother. Mirielle smiled at the look of joy as Michael caught the girl in a bear hug.  
  
"Christine! I've been looking all over for you." Michael smiled as he picked Christine off the ground and spun her around.  
  
"I know." Christine giggled, "Buquet told me you were here."  
  
"He wasn't very helpful. Let me tell you. Sent me on a wild goose chase trying to find you."  
  
"Have you seen Mama yet? She was worried that you and Aidan wouldn't make it in last night." Christine related, "Papa took her out to take her mind off of it."  
  
"I saw her earlier. How are you doing, little sister? I heard you got the lead."  
  
Christine beamed brightly, "I'll be playing Eliza Doolittle."  
  
"Ah My Fair Lady. I think you'll be perfect for it." Michael grinned.  
  
"Oh who are your friends, Michael?" Christine smiled when she saw John and Mirielle standing off to the side.  
  
"Where are my manners?" Michael smirked, "This is my little talented sister, Christine Noir."  
  
Mirielle smiled charmingly at the young singer, "A pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle. Inspector Mirielle Holmes."  
  
Christine grinned then turned to John, "And you are?"  
  
John paused for a moment. She was beautiful young lady with twinkling blue eyes. After they stared at each other for a few moments, John took her hand and kissed it, "John Holmes."  
  
"Monsieur Holmes." Christine smiled brightly.  
  
He was a handsome man, she thought to herself. Not like that Dante who was constantly trying to be charming to her. The idiot didn't think she could see through his act. He was only charming because he thought it would hurt her mother to see Christine with him. Charming with words alone didn't impress Christine. But this John had manners as well as a nice voice.  
  
Christine smiled at him. John smiled back hoping to ease what he was about to do, "Mademoiselle, it a pleasure to see you. May I ask you a few questions?"  
  
"Of course. I would like to help." Christine answered happily.  
  
"Where were you last night?" John asked firmly.  
  
"Excuse me?" Christine stammered caught off guard by the question.  
  
"Can you tell me where you were last night?" John repeated again.  
  
Christine looked at Michael with an icy glare, "Are you joking?"  
  
"No, Your whereabouts?"  
  
"I was home, Monsieur, with my parents." Christine haughtily replied beginning to question her judgment of the man called John.  
  
"But you said your parents went out." John pointed out, "Can anyone confirm you were home all night."  
  
"Our cat, Ayesha." Christine smirked, "I can fetch her if you want to question her."  
  
"That won't be necessary." John glared at her, "Do you know anything about a robbery of 10 Downing Street?"  
  
Christine went from mad to anger in no time flat. Michael grinned as John began to dig his grave. His sister's fist began to clench and unclench as John continued to question her answers. Michael took Mirielle's arm and took a step away.  
  
He smiled at her and whispered, "I don't want you to get hurt when Christine lets herself loose on him."  
  
"I don't know any Downing Street." Christine denied.  
  
"Come, come Mademoiselle. Downing Street is the center of government in New London. Surely you have heard of it."  
  
"Monsieur, the last time I was in New London I was ten years old."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Are you calling me a liar?" Christine hissed as she glared at John.  
  
"No, I won't dream of it. It's just you are a little fuzz on a few things." John chuckled slightly hoping to ease Christine. Christine smiled sweetly causing Michael took a huge step back. Mirielle did the same. Unaware of the impending danger, John added, "I mean you could have had a lover over with you while they are gone."  
  
John felt his face turn with the force of the slap that hit him. Christine stood in front of him literally shaking with anger. Her blue eyes glared at him icily. John suddenly realized that he crossed a line somewhere, he just wasn't sure where.  
  
"I don't have one. Never did despite what you think" Christine bit out, before swearing at him in French.  
  
John looked at her in shock of the language coming from her mouth. Behind her, Michael was smiling obviously amused as was Mirielle. When she was done, Christine turned and stalked away.  
  
"Excuse me, mademoiselle," Michael said to Mirielle, "I have to make sure she doesn't hurt anyone. It was a pleasure to meet you."  
  
"The same." Mirielle chuckled as Michael chased his little sister. She could hear him teasing her trying to get her to laugh.  
  
Mirielle walked over to her stunned little brother. Still smiling, she stated the obvious, "You so deserved it."  
  
John went to speak except his jaw ached like hell. That girl had a hell of follow through. Rubbing his jaw, he decided to ignore his sister and walked to the men's bathroom. Mirielle watched her brother walk into the bathroom and then shook her head and laughed. He never learned no matter how many times their mother had to talk to him about it. He had inherited their father's old feelings towards women but it almost seemed that they were a little less potent.  
  
She turned around and decided there was nothing left to learn from the lobby. Moving towards the auditorium she decided to go into the back stage area. Climbing onto the stage she looked out and shivered.  
  
"How could people get up here and perform," she shuddered again looking at the stage.  
  
She walked over to the curtains and examined them carefully; the golden fringe and red crushed velvet were soft underneath her touch. Taking out her magnifying glass she examined the fabric, checking to see if anyone had recently touched it, or pulled it.  
  
Deciding that it looked as normal as it could be she looked at the scenery, it was normal for a stage. As she went over to the props Aidan and Buquet were reminiscing.  
  
"What do you think of having Krissy take over for me when I retire?" asked Buquet as they leisurely strolled along.  
  
"Considering the fact that she can, and most likely will rule with an iron fist, I think it would be perfect," he chuckled lightly. Aidan ran his hand through his short hair and then spotted someone on the stage, "Buquet, I think we have a visitor."  
  
"What are you doing?" he asked her as she started to move a table. He shouted walking as fast as he could towards Mirielle, "You can't move that. Who are you? What are you doing?"  
  
She accidentally dropped the table and turned around, "Oh. I was just, um investigating. I'm sorry if I moved anything, I didn't mean to intrude."  
  
Aidan smirked as Buquet inspected the table.  
  
"You're lucky it's not broken," he squinted to see the name on her badge, "Mademoiselle Mirielle. If it were the Phantom might want to have a few words with you, just ask - oh wait you can't. Oh you don't believe me Mademoiselle? It's true, all of it is true. The Phantom will come after you when you least expect it, the Punjab Lasso in hand. You could be minding your own business when," he made a chocking noise and pretended to hang himself, "and I am on personal terms with the Phantom so watch your step on my stage."  
  
Mirielle looked at Buquet with wide eyes and her mouth hanging. Walking backwards she stammered, "Well I'll be uh, sure to remember that." Then she jumped off the stage and briskly walked towards the lobby.  
  
"You have way too much fun doing that," smirked Aidan as the door shut behind her.  
  
Buquet looked at Aidan and sighed, "Considering who my friends are, don't you think I would want to have a little fun sometimes?" Aidan shook his head and continued to walk along the backstage area talking with Buquet about the management of the theatre.  
  
Mirielle ran down the hallway trying to get away from Buquet's threats. She finally slowed down enough and went to turn a corner only to hit someone and fall down. Mirielle hit the ground with an oofed while whatever she hit gave a yelp of pain. She looked up to see an older woman with long brown hair pulled into a pony tail rubbing her chest where Mirielle's magnifying glass hit her. The woman took a deep breath and looked at Mirielle while out stretching a hand.  
  
"Je regette, cherie." The woman smiled, "I need to put a mirror up so you can see around the corner.  
  
Mirielle took her hand and felt rubber rub her hand. Mirielle noticed the palms of the lady's hands were wrapped in electric tape. Mirielle let go quickly and the lady laughed lightly. Taking advantage of the lady's distractedness, Mirielle tried to memorize what she looked like. The lady was wearing worn old jeans that had several tears in them. Her white shirt was covered by a flannel shirt. Mirielle's eye snapped up when she heard the lady talk again.  
  
"I won't bite, cherie, despite what the men on my crew will tell you." The lady teased.  
  
"I'm sorry if I offended you." Mirielle began but the lady held up a hand silencing her.  
  
"Don't worry about it. You look like you seen a ghost."  
  
"Well, I was just warned off the main stage by a strange man after trying to find clues."  
  
The lady smiled, "Ahh, Buquet is back at it again. Pay him no mind, he is a jokester and wanted to pull your chain."  
  
"I knew the Phantom wasn't real." Mirielle grinned triumphantly.  
  
"Now while I love to call him crazy, he is right about that." the lady admitted as she rubbed her neck, "The Phantom is quite real. Even his lasso is real."  
  
"The Punjab Lasso? How do you know?" Mirielle asked.  
  
"My first year here, I encountered one in the basements. If it wasn't for my partner, I wouldn't be here. I didn't believe either at the time."  
  
"Can you defend yourself from it?"  
  
"Yes, never ever travel down there alone and always have your hand to the level of your eyes. You'll be safe that way. Since you don't believe in the Phantom, why are you here?"  
  
"I'm investigating a robbery of Downing Street in New London. One of our clues pointed to here. Have you seen any things strange around here?" Mirielle questioned as professionally as possible until the lady started laughing loudly, "Did I say something funny?"  
  
The lady calmed down, "Oui, cherie. You are in the house of the Phantom Of the Opera. Strange things happen all the time here. But more than usual, no. I don't recall anything."  
  
"Merci."  
  
"No problem. If you need any backstage help especially with Buquet, just ask for Krissy. All the guys know me." Krissy smiled.  
  
"Thank you again. Inspector Holmes."  
  
"Pleasure. Now I have a stage manager to ream out. Au revoir."  
  
Mirielle waved until Krissy was gone around the corner. Mirielle continued down the hallway looking for her brother. 


	3. Chapter 3

Myshawolf walks out with Angelina 809. Behind them stands Thunder, Nightmare, Lucky *a guy in a dress*, and Death patiently waiting. MW waves to the audience: Hello Everyone! I'm all better now!  
  
Nightmare: And we use the term better very loosely.  
  
Angelina: Anyways here is chapter 3 of our fic. But first notes!!  
  
MW: First, Angie *to Angelina* Not you. *back to the readers* Angie, Atlantis is currently being worked on slowly but surely. My notebook for that fic is currently AWOL so I have to do everything from memory.  
  
A: Thank you to everyone who reviewed. And Northstar, don't worry reinforcements are coming.  
  
MW* pulls out a general's hat that she borrowed for the GI Joe section*: A- Tent-Hutt! *The muses snap into a straight stance* Your mission, whether you like it or not, is to teach Haldir a lesson and have him back off of Northstar. Is that clear?  
  
A: *rolls around laughing*  
  
Muses: Yes ma'am.  
  
Lucky: Are we allowed to use any means necessary?  
  
MW: *thinks about it* What do you think, Angelina?  
  
A: Hell yeah! *Lucky mentions something about dresses and what Haldir's color*  
  
MW: *nods* You have your assignments now go and make me proud! *The muses head over to Northstar's page*  
  
A: We are evil.  
  
MW: And you say that like it's a bad thing * to the readers* On with the show everyone!  
  
A: *hold up a sign that says*  
  
Wandering Children  
  
Chapter 3- Or Am I Standing Still?  
  
Aidan broke away from Buquet just as he spotted Michael coming down from the flies with Christine. He was going to get to the bottom of what was wrong with his brother. Michael smiled as Aidan approached them. That smile faded when Michael saw that look on Aidan's face. Christine left Michael's side to greet her other brother. Aidan smiled widely as he hugged his little sister.  
  
"Aidan, I'm so glad your home." Christine smiled.  
  
"Glad to be home, little sister." Aidan smiled sweetly, "Still keeping the suitors at bay?"  
  
"I seem to disappear when I mention that I'm looking for a new sparring partner since neither of you are home anymore." Christine pouted.  
  
"We'll be around for a while." Michael promised her, "Won't we, Aidan?"  
  
"We'll see, brother. I want to talk with you." Aidan stated neutrally to Michael. Michael gulped and nodded. Christine looked between the two confused but began to follow them to their mother's dressing room. Aidan checked to be sure the coast was clear Neither of their parents in sight. Aidan pulled Michael in and came face to face with a curious Christine.  
  
"Sorry little sister." Aidan smiled sweetly at her, "Boy talk."  
  
Before Christine could protest, Aidan slammed the door in her face. Christine frowned at the door, but remembered that there was other ways into the room. She ran to the cellars.  
  
Michael stood with his back to the mirror that hung on the wall. Aidan listened until he was sure Christine had walked away, before turning to face his brother. Michael stood there waiting for the other shoe to drop.  
  
"What is wrong with you?" Aidan asked softly.  
  
"I have no idea what you are talking about." Michael stated strongly.  
  
"Oh come off it, Michael. I was listening to what you were saying this morning. Dad may not have caught it but Mum and I did."  
  
"Mum?"  
  
"Yes, Mum heard you. I'm surprise she didn't call you on it. Does this have to do with that female detective?"  
  
"What female detective?"  
  
"God damn it, Michael. I'm going to kill you. Drop the act. You know exactly who I am talking about." Michael glanced over his shoulder at the mirror, "Fine, Aidan. It is about the detective. She is here."  
  
"You like her don't you?" Aidan accused fiercely.  
  
"What does that have to do with anything?"  
  
"Everything, considering she is a Yardie and we are criminals. She wouldn't hesitate to arrest you. You are only going to get hurt and take the rest of us with you."  
  
"I know that!" Michael lashed out, "You think I don't know that! I'm no happier than you are that she is a Yardie or that she is here."  
  
"You have been out of it lately. Making mistakes. Dad will flip when he finds out."  
  
"You are going to tell him?"  
  
"I should. You are putting everyone in danger. Is she worth it?"  
  
"I don't know. But I know that right now she is here, poking around. I won't actively seek her out if that's what you are afraid of, dear brother. But we can't hide from her either. I'm going to face her when she asks questions."  
  
"You are a fool, Michael. I know what you are up to." Aidan growled, "Don't do it. Don't make her fall in love with someone who doesn't exist. You'll both regret it."  
  
"Don't preach to me. You did the same thing or did you forget about Cosette?"  
  
When Aidan didn't answer, Michael slammed out of the dressing room. Aidan bit back the wave of regret as it tried to break free from the waves of time. He moved and sat on the cot. His mind tried to figure out the right thing to do.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*  
  
Mirielle walked outside the Opera House and sat on the steps. She rested her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands; she looked like a child that had just dropped their ice cream cone on a hot summer's day. Her brow furrowed in deep thought.  
  
She sat there thinking about everything that had been said, The Phantom, the lasso, it all confused her. Generally she was never confused but this was a different story. Her head began to pulse with all these new thoughts and ideas that popped in her head as she sat there. "Ugh," she murmured, "if Dad were here he would have it figured out already."  
  
Burying her head in her hands she sat there for several minutes and did not notice Dante walking down the street. He strolled confidently with a smirk on his thin lips. He saw the sandy haired angel he had seen earlier and smirked mischievously and sat next to her.  
  
"What's the matter chère?" he asked in a silky voice.  
  
She looked up and a frustrated sigh escaped her lips, "It's too confusing to explain."  
  
She grumbled something and then went back to her original position. She gently massaged her temples with her pointer finger as Dante scouted closer to her. His brown eyes twinkled in the sunlight as he looked at the very confused Mirielle.  
  
"I'm sorry to hear that," he smirked putting his hand on her knee, "If it would make you feel any better I have a reservation for two for dinner tonight, however it seems that I don't have someone else to go with."  
  
He had her right where he wanted her, too upset to turn anything down then someone else's footsteps could be heard from behind them.  
  
Dante!" yelled a young woman's voice, "What are you doing? You have rehearsal! Go, go, go!"  
  
She pulled him up by his shirt collar and pushed him towards the door. Mirielle looked at her and took in the young woman's appearance. She had blue jeans on with a black sweatshirt. There was a pair of lightly tinted sunglasses perched on her nose. A pen was neatly tucked behind her ear and poked out of her long brown spiral curls. In her hand she carried a spiral notebook which was open to a crisp piece of white paper.  
  
"Bonne après-midi," she smiled as she offered a hand to help Mirielle up, "My name's Jessamine. I'm sorry for Dante's behavior; he's always screwing up someone's life."  
  
"Thanks," sighed Mirielle as she stood up. "My name's Mirielle. What exactly are you doing here? You're a writer, not an actress?"  
  
"Well, I came here for some inspiration," she laughed politely, "Where better to go for drama than an opera house?"  
  
Mirielle chuckled at the comment and sighed, "I've met so many strange people today in there. You could write a novel on them alone. I mean that old man with the stories, Buquet was his name, and the guy with him. Gah."  
  
"Oh, that must have been Aidan," Jessamine smiled, "He's constantly around. Did you meet his brother Michael? You must have, but they're related to that prima donna, Erika Noir. No one really sees much of her anymore, they say she became a recluse, but who knows. Well I better get in there, I may miss something, au revoir!"  
  
As Jessamine entered the building Mirielle looked around the outside one more time and then reentered the opera house, maybe she could sort things out in there.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~**~~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~~*~*~*  
  
Mirielle finally found John in the lobby. He was poking his head into the rehearsal silently watching as everything was going on. Mirielle pulled the collar of his polo shirt and took him outside.  
  
"We need to get back to the hotel, Mum and Dad will be expecting a call," she said taking the responsible role for moment.  
  
"Well we found slim to nil," said John in a flat tone. "But we know that the perp is here somewhere."  
  
"Yes," agreed Mirielle, "I bet Dad and Mum will tell us something when we get back anyway."  
  
Climbing into the driver's seat she buckled her seat belt and then smirked at her brother who was clutching onto the seat and winked revving up the engine. The drive to the hotel was only five minutes long but John looked green by the time they got there. He unsteadily climbed out of the car and grabbed his stomach.  
  
"Next time I drive." his voice slightly wavering.  
  
"Whatever," Mirielle chuckled as she entered the revolving door.  
  
John slowly followed behind as they got into the elevator and went up to the 21st floor. They entered their room, 221, and John sat on the bed. "Still feeling sick John?" Mirielle teased as she dialed home.  
  
"Hello?" answered their father on the screen. "Oh, hello Mirielle, John."  
  
"Hi Daddy," smiled Mirielle, "We have some good news and some bad news."  
  
"And what is that?" asked Beth as she walked up behind Sherlock and sat beside him on the chair.  
  
John stood up and made his way over to the screen to say something, "Well, we found a footprint that had dirt consistent with dirt from Downing Street in the lobby, however we found out little else. Everything here seems to be normal."  
  
"Don't forget children," smirked Sherlock, "Minutiae is what we depend on, check everything you can, and everyone you can."  
  
John snickered and then made his way back over to his bed. He laid back and sighed placing his hands on his stomach, "Gor some odd reason I'm hungry, Mir."  
  
Beth laughed and then whispered something into Sherlock ear. He nodded and then Beth said, "Well, there's always de'l Harmonie."  
  
"Where now?" asked Mirielle and John at the same time.  
  
"De'l Harmonie," Sherlock repeated, "It's owned by an old friend. The food is excellent. Your mother and I highly recommend it."  
  
The two children looked at each other and shrugged. "Okay," Mirielle smiled, "  
  
What's the dress code?"  
  
"Nothing specific," said Beth, "Just make sure you have clothes on," she laughed when Mirielle rolled her eyes at her mother, "Well you two go get something to eat and we'll talk tomorrow."  
  
With that the screen turned off and Mirielle turned to her brother, "Let's go get some food."  
  
"I'm driving," he retorted quickly dashing for the keys. He clutched them in his hand and Mirielle laughed shutting the door behind her.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~**~~**~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~**~*~*~  
  
Mirielle looked around the exquisitely decorated restaurant in surprise. She worried that she might be under dressed in a simple yellow sundress. She began to relax once she saw some people walking around in jeans and t shirts. They must be with the opera troupe. Looking around, she stepped down the stairs.  
  
"Mirielle? Is that you?" A very British female voice called out.  
  
Mirielle turned to the voice and smiled brightly at the sight of her old babysitter, Deidre. Deidre was sitting over at a table by where the Opera Company was sitting. As she walked to her old friend, Mirielle noticed Dante trying to flirt with one of the dancers. Mirielle thanked Jessamine for her interference.  
  
"Mirielle," Deidre smiled as she hugged the younger woman, "I didn't know you were in Paris."  
  
"Yeah." Mirielle grinned, "I'm working on a case."  
  
"Really? On what?" Deidre asked interested.  
  
"Off the record?" Mirielle laughed when Deidre sighed heavily but nodded, "There was a robbery at 10 Downing Street yesterday morning."  
  
"That's why I can't find Wiggins or Tennyson anywhere." Deidre realized, "They must be working over time. So what does that have to do with Paris?"  
  
"Well, we tracked one or both of thieves here. More specifically the Opera House, but we have been having trouble finding any clues. The Company seems to close up." Mirielle sighed.  
  
"It takes time. I'm the local music critic and I still get shut out. At least Madam Noir tells me what is going on when the rest are being fussy." Deidre smiled at Mirielle shocked look, "Your mother and father know her as well."  
  
John walked into the Restaurant quickly. He hoped his sister didn't start without him. He was moving so fast that he didn't see the person coming his way until they ran into each other. John reacted by grabbing them to steady them and himself.  
  
"I'm so sorry." John stammered as so as he had his balance back and let go.  
  
"You really need to watch where you are going, Monsieur." Christine snapped as she stepped away.  
  
John blushed when he realized what an impression he must have made on her. Glancing over to the side where he had heard his sister's voice, he could see she was already distracted. Making up his mind, he decided to do it. Gently he took her hand. When she went to tug it away, John tightened his grip.  
  
"Please Mademoiselle, I want to apologize for anything I did earlier that offended you." John said sincerely as he gave a slight bow.  
  
"You should." Christine sniffed at him but relented, "I forgive you. Michael explained to me that you were doing your job."  
  
While John was suspicious of Michael still, he couldn't help but thank him for telling his sister the truth. John smiled at her. Christine smiled back at him. Inside John's chest felt tight as he gazed at her smiling at him. Unsure of himself, he took a step away from her. He didn't need a distraction while working on a case like this.  
  
"Would you like to join me and my friends for dinner?" Christine offered.  
  
Feeling his heart trying to jump out of his throat, John shook his head, "No thanks, mademoiselle. I have a sudden need for air."  
  
Before Christine could say anymore, John bolted from the restaurant. Christine watched him go confused at first, then slowly her anger began to build. He obviously couldn't stand to be near her. Heaving a heavy sigh, Christine began to head back to her table.  
  
Danesh was talking with some of the waiters when he saw Christine walking along like she just been told she lost a role. Excusing himself, Danesh jogged up to his goddaughter. Christine gave him a weak smile as he hugged her.  
  
"Now why the long face?" Danesh smiled.  
  
"No reason, Uncle Danesh." Christine shrugged.  
  
Danesh quickly deduced the trouble in one word, "A man?"  
  
Christine nodded. Danesh smiled and laid an arm across Christine's shoulder. Gently he directed their walk to the kitchen area.  
  
With a sympathetic grin Danesh cooed, "Let's get some food and you tell me all about it."  
  
Jessamine sat at a table all alone. She grumbled as she looked around for the clock, Her eyes settled on the broken one across the room.  
  
"They still didn't fix it?" she said in an exasperated voice.  
  
Then, she spotted Buquet's watch chain hanging out of his back pocket. She smirked as she quietly made her way over to him. He was engaged in a deep conversation with Aidan so it made it better on her part.  
  
She gently tugged the chain and pulled it out of his pocket without him noticing. Aidan saw her do it, but didn't say anything because he didn't want to interrupt Buquet. She checked the time and then expertly pretended to pick it up off the ground. Tapping him on the shoulder, Buquet turned around surprised,  
  
"Pardon moi M'sieur Buquet, but I think you dropped this." she smiled sweetly and held up the golden chain with the watch dangling at the bottom.  
  
Buquet patted her on the head and turned to Aidan, "Isn't she a princess?"  
  
He motioned towards Jessamine and she snickered pulling her pen from behind her ear and jotting something down. Then Buquet pulled out his watch and muttered something and walked away.  
  
"Did I do well?" smirked Jessamine as Buquet walked away. "Pretty good for a beginner eh?"  
  
"You're a sly one that's for sure," he said in an icy voice. "But I'd watch it Jess, not many people are as gullible or eccentric enough to believe you as Buquet."  
  
Jessamine's smile faded from her face and she looked down to the ground shuffling her feet, "Merci for the advice," she muttered and then headed back towards her table, resting her head on her hand which was propped up on the table. She sighed and then pushed her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose looking around again.  
  
'Impressive,' he thought to himself, 'She really isn't that bad, but I shouldn't encourage it in Buquet's little princess,' he almost smirked but then decided against it, still remaining stone faced.  
  
Mirielle was looking around for her brother as she walked. Then, suddenly she tipped forward and into someone. She looked up and noticed those electric green eyes staring at her with a small smile on his lips.  
  
"Fancy that," she said blushing as she stood up straight.  
  
"It's not a problem," Michael said. "I guess it's just that we fell for each other." They both laughed at the comment and then he bent over and picked up her magnifying glass, "This little digit doesn't seem to want to stay with you."  
  
"Merci," she smiled placing it back into its holster. "I was just wondering, where were you the other night?"  
  
"I was in Perros on some family business, but I can't prove or disprove it," he smirked, "But, now I have a question for you."  
  
"And what is that?" Mirielle said a little apprehensively.  
  
Michael smiled at her nervousness. He was glad that he affected her as much as she affected him. Putting on his most gracious smile, he held out his hand to her. Mirielle looked at it trying to figure out what he was up to.  
  
"Will you give me the pleasure of this dance?" Michael asked her.  
  
Mirielle wasn't sure of what to do. Looking around, she couldn't see her brother anywhere. Taking a deep breathe, she placed her hand into his. Michael tenderly took it and led her out to the slowly filling dance floor as the band began to play. Michael placed one hand on her waist while he took her other hand into his. A smile touched his lips as he spotted his mother standing by the band leader.  
  
Erika smiled as she watched Michael walk a young lady onto the dance floor. It was nice seeing him enjoy himself. Glancing around, she also spotted Aidan talking with another young woman. Her smile turned sad. They were growing up so quickly. Erika glanced up at the second level where James was watching her. He winked at her. Erika beamed brightly at her beloved husband.  
  
The band leader nodded at her. Erika took a breath and began to sing a bluesy slow song. She hoped Aidan would finally ask another young lady to dance. It's been so long since she had seen him dancing the night away.  
  
It's time to hold my hand  
  
And take a chance  
  
It's time to pay the band  
  
And start the dance  
  
We hear the melody  
  
We know the song  
  
It's time, I think  
  
We're on the brink  
  
Of waiting too long  
  
Erika smiled as more dancers came out on to the dance floor. She looked up as James leaned on the railing. They smiled at each other. Erika felt her cheeks begin toget warm. After all these years he could still get her to blush.  
  
Why not believe our eyes  
  
And cross our hearts  
  
Dispense with alibis  
  
Enough false starts  
  
It's time to put away  
  
Our childish things  
  
And time to trust  
  
In us...and what tomorrow brings  
  
Michael felt the music begin to take over as he danced with Mirielle. She fit in his arms just so perfectly. It saddened him that he would never have a chance with her. For the first time, he cursed the fact that he decided to be what he now was.  
  
It's time to risk it all  
  
And shoot the moon  
  
So just let go and fall  
  
It's not too soon  
  
Before the clock strikes one more chime  
  
Let's see if we can move love off this dime  
  
'Cause when we kiss we both can see  
  
It's time It's getting too late  
  
For a lengthy debate  
  
So let's go for the win  
  
Let's give forever a shove  
  
So that love can begin  
  
Mirielle felt a little lightheaded as she gazed in Michael's green eyes. They seem to take on a sad quality as they stared at each other. She like how gentle he was with her despite his size and possible strength. Mentally, she slapped herself. Come on, Mirielle, she thought to herself, you are here on a case.  
  
It's time to let it ride  
  
'Cause time won't wait  
  
If luck is on our side  
  
It's not too late  
  
Before we stumble past our prime  
  
I know together we can make this climb  
  
'Cause I believe for you and me...  
  
It's time  
  
Erika bowed as the patrons applauded her. Michael removed his hand from Mirielle's waist. Following an impulse, he brought her other hand to his mouth and he kissed it while holding her violet gaze. Mirielle felt her heart stop.  
  
"Merci," Michael whispered, "That was an amazing experience."  
  
Mirielle mutely nodded and watched as Michael walked away. She shook herself out of it when she spotted her brother walking back in. Determine to cover up the unrest inside, she put on a smile and walked towards him.  
  
Jessamine let out a bored sigh and then saw Nadir roaming around the restaurant a handkerchief poking out of his pocket. She snickered and laid her notebook on the table. She casually strolled over behind him and went to take the handkerchief when his hand shot out at her and grabbed her wrist.  
  
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.  
  
"I was um, I was just uh, I was trying to um, I wanted to." she trailed off not able to come up with a good excuse.  
  
She quickly looked around wondering if someone was going to help her, Nadir's hand tightly gripping her wrist, his hand getting tighter and tighter by the second. She winced and tried to pull free.Nadir's glare made her squirm as she stood there then a sigh of relief passed her lips as Aidan walked up.  
  
"Uncle Nadir, what are you doing?" he asked laying his hand on his shoulder.  
  
"The little thief tried to steal my silk handkerchief," he glared at Jessamine again, "If I were her father or any relative for that matter she would be-"  
  
Aidan cut him off as he gaze Jessamine a convincing that made her want to shrink, "Uncle Nadir, I was just testing her abilities, she was going to give it back I assure you. Her tutoring shall be continued accordingly."  
  
Nadir sneered and let go of her wrist and stormed off. "Thanks," she smiled shyly to Aidan, "you saved my skin. I didn't think he was so perceptive like that."  
  
Aidan frowned, "Jessamine, you must remember what I told you before at all time, not all targets are easy. You must never think they won't explode or do something worse than that. You could get hurt, and we wouldn't want that would we?"  
  
"I guess not," she looked to the ground as she hung her head. She looked up with her big blue eyes and made a puppy face, "Could you help me become better at pick pocketing? I need a way to make money other than writing my somber poems."  
  
"What's your most recent creation anyway?" he asked, "The last one was quite good, I'd like to see a new one soon."  
  
Jessamine flipped through some pages and then found a small poem. She smiled holding her notebook triumphantly in her hands. Aidan felt his heart speed up, but quickly ignored it.  
  
"Here," she smirked handing him the paper. "Keep it; I know it by heart anyway."  
  
"Alone," he mumbled the title. "So, we have another angst poem do we Jess? I'm glad to see that you are keeping theme."  
  
Jessamine smiled and returned to her table alone. Aidan turned over the conversation they just had in his mind. She was in need of work, he figured that much. Recently, Krissy's old partner Shawn left for New York and Broadway so there was an opening. Aidan leaned back as he watched the young thief-writer looking around the dining area. Buquet would hire her in an instant since he liked the girl. However, Krissy would be harder to win over since it would be her partner.  
  
Aidan stood up and looked around for the older stage hand. He smiled as she was walking towards him talking with Michael. Michael was frowning which meant they were arguing over bringing computers into the running of the backstage. Krissy grinned as they reached Aidan's table.  
  
"Brother, can you talk some sense into her?" Michael pleaded.  
  
Krissy rolled her eyes and took a seat, "He wants me to put in computers to help with the limes. That's breaking tradition."  
  
"No it isn't. Not if you are short handed. Buquet still hasn't hired anyone to replace Shawn." Michael pointed out as he sat as well.  
  
Aidan found his perfect opportunity and seized it, "Why hasn't Buquet hired anyone?"  
  
Krissy sighed wistfully, "He is still hoping Shawn will return and we will be one happy family again. I can't convince him that Shawn isn't coming back. He just eloped with a dancer."  
  
"Shawn did?" Michael gaped.  
  
"Shut your mouth, Michael." Aidan joked getting a smile out of Krissy, "Will you be willing to hire anyone new?"  
  
"Sure, we need the help." Krissy shrugged, "I would probably want someone fresh yet can understand the grind of the job."  
  
"That's perfect." Aidan grinned.  
  
Michael looked up at his brother in confusion while Krissy merely raised a brow and remarked, "Are you volunteering to help out? Thinking of changing careers on your old man?"  
  
Aidan put his hands up, "Not me. I'll help out but I was thinking of someone with more time on their hands."  
  
"Like?" Krissy prompted.  
  
Aidan leaned forward so Jessamine couldn't hear, "Jessamine. She knows the theater and the basics."  
  
Krissy ponder this and smiled, "She would be good. Buquet could hardly refuse to give her a job."  
  
Michael nodded his agreement then gained a sly smile as he realized the implications, "Keeping her close, brother?"  
  
Aidan glared at Michael, "Nonsense, She has some talents that I admire and think she should refine a little."  
  
Krissy stood up and grinned down at them, "I don't want to know. I've learned that much from dealing with your father. Just remember Aidan, if I'm missing any thing you are the first person on my list to question and kill. Now I'm going to interview my potential employee."  
  
With that Krissy walked over to Jessamine's table. Aidan watched with a faint smile as Krissy talked to her. Jessamine looked in Aidan's direction questioningly. Aidan nodded to her trying to wordlessly trying to get her to agree. Jessamine finally did. Aidan had a small smile on his face as he watched a look of joy sweep over Jessamine's face.  
  
"So," Michael grinned now that he had some dirt on Aidan, "Heard from Cosette lately?"  
  
"Who?" Aidan asked absently as he looked at Jessamine's face.  
  
"Exactly what I was thinking." Michael grinned even wider.  
  
As Mirielle walked off the dance floor she made her way to John and dragged him over to Deidre. "Who was that singing?" Mirielle abruptly asked as she finished dragging her brother to the table.  
  
"That was Erika Noir, brilliant isn't she?" smiled Deidre. "Her voice is impeccable. I saw her sing twenty years ago and she's just as good as she was then, if not better."  
  
John nodded but his attention was on Erika as she walked off the stage. She met a mysterious man in the shadows and after sharing a brief kiss they walked up the stairs. Tugging on Mirielle's dress John got her attention and whispered what he saw into her ear.  
  
She nodded and then turned to Deidre, "Do you know if she's married or not?"  
  
Deidre shrugged, "I have no idea. I don't usually tamper with my subject's private lives, only their stage life."  
  
John burst into the conversation, "Well, then I suppose we'll have to find out for ourselves then won't we Mir?"  
  
He smiled and then looked around. His heart wrenched when he saw Christine. He looked away and then back to the stairs. The two people were gone, however John was starving. "C'mon Mir, I'm sorry but my stomach can't wait anymore, I need some food."  
  
"Danesh is a wonderful cook," Deidre interjected, "I think you two should join me, I was just about to eat anyway, sit," she motioned towards two empty chairs.  
  
John took the one facing the stairs while Mirielle took the one closest to her. Deidre ordered for them, as she saw fit and the continued to talk about the music business and reminiscing about the past.  
  
John looked around distractedly. He saw Christine head for the stairs and then disappeared up them. Noting that in his mind, he chuckled as Deidre mentioned an old babysitting job where peas managed to fling themselves across the room without any explanation.  
  
John had the courtesy to blush when Mirielle agreed about how much of a brat he was. Looking for an escape, he watched as Michael and his look- alike head up the stairs, chatting about something. Michael's look-alike was blushing brightly as they climbed up and disappeared on to the upper landing. John definitely noted that and looked at his sister. Mirielle was listening to Deidre telling her stories about their father before he married their mother. John half listened to his old baby sitter, deciding to tell Mirielle about it later. 


	4. Chapter 4

Myshawolf and Angelina walk out. The page is very quiet. Angelina looks around nervously while Mysha enjoys the quiet.  
  
MW: Ohh, Readers! Hi all. Sorry I'm late with this. You know how a teacher's life is. Midterms to grade, Phone calls to make.  
  
A: Anyways. Here is chapter 4.  
  
MW: Are you sure you never seen Star Wars?  
  
A: Okay, where did that come frome?  
  
MW: *shrugs* I guess I'm not over that little revelation. *sideways glance* Really really?  
  
A *chuckles* Yes, I haven't seen Start wars. Can we get on with this?  
  
MW: Okay. I wonder how the muses are doing?  
  
A: I don't know except I hate to be Haldir when Lucky gets a hold of him. I was hearing dangling earring being mentioned.  
  
MW: *winces* ouch. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost is the working word. *to the readers* On with the Show.  
  
Wandering Children  
  
Chapter 4 - Close Encounters I  
  
John walked among the back stage area the next day looking for clues. So far he didn't learn much except don't mess with the prop table. Glancing at his watch, he noted the time. It was only noon. Half the day wasted for nothing. He was about to go to the Opera House Library when a beautiful song snagged his attention. Turning he saw Christine singing through the scales slowly at first but then quickly pick up speed. Her face was flushed as she burst out into a beautiful aria. John stood transfixed by the pureness of her voice as it flowed over the notes of the song. When she finished, a heavenly smile took over her lips. John couldn't help but smile in response to the sight of her.  
  
Suddenly Dante's voice was heard shouting at Christine. Christine glared at the intruding tenor. John watched as the two fought on the stage. The conversation intrigued him.  
  
"That was filthy, mademoiselle." Dante shouted at her, "You turned that into pure garbage."  
  
"Shut up, Dante." Christine spat, "You wouldn't know beauty even if it hit you in the face!"  
  
"At I know singing. You still need to practice." Dante sneered, "Isn't your Angel teaching you enough?"  
  
"The Angel of music has taught me more than your mother ever even dreamed of knowing!"  
  
"My mother was the greatest soprano in the world, mademoiselle." Dante growled, looking at her like he was ready to charge.  
  
"Only in her mind," Christine sniffed, "Or what is left of it."  
  
Christine turned to leave when Dante grabbed her arms. Christine struggled against him but couldn't get free. Dante pulled her close to him, his face close to hers. Christine looked like she ready bite or throttle him.  
  
"Never insult my mother, you little slut, or you suffer a worst fate than death." Dante threatened lowly, "Of course you might enjoy it with a whore of a mother. Tell me Christine does your mother teach you all her little tricks?"  
  
John was stalking towards them. Anger pushed him to stop this abuse. He had his cane out when Michael's twin landed on the stage behind Dante from the flies high above. John looked up to see two female members of the stage crew watching him go to work. The older one was wearing a smile while the younger one was in shock.  
  
Aidan grabbed Dante by his hair and yanked him away from his sister with a roar, "Don't you dare touch her!"  
  
Dante rolled across the stage and quickly got to his feet, "Ah the big bad brother comes to the rescue."  
  
Aidan positioned himself between Christine and Dante and shot back, "You better believe it."  
  
"I see the whore has been busy." Dante smirked confident Aidan wouldn't touch him while there were people present.  
  
Aidan stalked toward Dante, murder was evident in his eyes. John stepped out on to the stage and quickly stepped in front of Aidan, "Monsieur, don't do it. He isn't worth it."  
  
Aidan glared at john before shoving him aside. John hit the stage hard. As he sat up, Christine was kneeling by his side. Concern was evident in her blue eyes. John blushed embarrassed that he couldn't break up a simple fight. Dante stood defiantly as Aidan approached.  
  
Suddenly a sand bag hit the stage just missing Dante. He glared up at the flies as another landed in front of him. Dante jumped out of the way of the third one. Looking up, He watched as Krissy and Jessamine untying a few ropes. Sensing he was out numbered and in grave danger, Dante ran from the stage. A fourth sandbag grazed him as he fled.  
  
Aidan looked up to see Krissy snapping her fingers in disappointment and muttered, "Zed I hate getting old. I almost had the twit."  
  
Jessamine just smiled at Aidan, who smiled back before turning to Christine. He frowned to see Christine helping up the fool who got into his way. John was thanking Christine for her help while blushing at the same time. Aidan sighed as he walked over. Christine glared at Aidan, wanting him to apologize for his behavior.  
  
"I'm sorry about that, monsieur." Aidan grumbled.  
  
John smiled forgivingly, "Why? I would have done the same thing if he was insulting my family and was hurting my sister."  
  
Aidan smiled back at least he was sympathetic, "Are you all right then?"  
  
John nodded, "Nothing more than a bruised ego. Well, I leave you two alone then, since I can't be of anymore assistance."  
  
John bowed to the both of them before walking away. Aidan smiled knowing why he left. It's hard dealing with making a fool of yourself in front of strangers. Christine watched him go with a wistful look on her face. Aidan groaned, not another one in love.  
  
Jessamine smirked as she watched what was going on. She slapped her hands together and then started to walk away; she turned her head smiling towards the stage. Dante looked mad.  
  
"God I hate him," she scowled looking at him.  
  
Just then Aidan slipped down one of the ropes and landed in front of Jessamine. Jessamine was busy with her thoughts that she didn't see him or know she spoke that last part out loud.  
  
"You're telling the wrong person trust me," he smirked as she smashed into him.  
  
The five foot seven girl toppled backwards and fell into a large box, her arms hanging over the side and her legs sticking out. Her face was shocked as she stared at him. Aidan walked over and stuck his hand out.  
  
"Need some help?" he chuckled.  
  
She looked at him through her crooked sunglasses and laughed nervously, "Merci, but you must stop sneaking up on people," she smiled noticing a piece of paper sticking out of his pocket as he helped her up, "What's that?"  
  
He pulled it out of his pocket and unfolded it, "It's your poem," he smiled, "I carry it around and when I'm in an especially good mood, I use it to somber myself up." He held it out to her, "if you would, I would love a presentation from the poet herself."  
  
Jessamine smiled as she took it from him. Smoothing out the gently creases she began to read, her cheeks blushing slightly, "Alone, by Jessamine Deveraux. I am a dark corner in a lighted room. A shelved book amongst a destroyed library. A lone picture hanging on a white wall. A red ant crushed in a sea of black. The little child lost in the woods, the world around her caving in, smothering her. A red rose in a bouquet of white thrown out on Valentine's Day. The lone ranger racing towards the sunset of life. I am alone," she looked up at him and smiled, "So, did you like your performance?"  
  
"It was very stirring," he said pocketing the poem again, "I will be waiting for your next piece of work. Good job, mon chère," he said walking away, clutching the poem in his pocket. He smiled to himself as he pulled it out again and looked at it.  
  
As he walked along looking at it his brother snuck up behind him, "What are you looking at dear brother?" said Michael as he placed his hand on his brother's shoulder causing him to jump.  
  
"You know you really shouldn't sneak up on me," he said his face returning to the normal stern expression. He quickly stuffed the poem in his pocket and stared at his little brother.  
  
"Come now," Michael said amiably, "You must have been looking at something important that you don't want any one else to see it. Let me see!" he tried to grab his brother's piece of paper. "Come on Aidan, let's see it!"  
  
"Jesus Christ you little pest!" spat Aidan, "What's wrong with you? Must you be so damned nosy?" His eyes narrowed and he grabbed his brother's shirt collar. "If you want to know what I'm reading, if you must know you stupid little moron, I am reading a poem! Are you satisfied?"  
  
Michael nodded nervously as his brother lifted him off the ground slightly. Aidan placed him down and Michael stared at his brother in disbelief, poetry? When did he start reading poetry, he thought to himself as he straightened his collar.  
  
"The only person that writes poetry around here is," Michael smirked and then said, "It's by her isn't it? Oh Aidan! I should tell Mama and Papa! They would love to hear this."  
  
Aidan tried to stay as calm as possible while his brother berated him. His eyes narrowed slightly at the grin on Michael's face  
  
"Dearest brother," he said in stressed voice, "I'm also sure Papa would love to hear about your romantic ventures with the Yardie. Now I highly recommend you keep quiet or else I may have to divulge into information that could indefinitely have Papa's career in crime extend far beyond theft."  
  
Michael scowled; his own sick joke had turned on him, "Fine, I'll keep quiet but you better not open your trap either. Remember I could always tell Mama and Papa about my older brother and Jessamine the pick pocket."  
  
"Well, at least Jessamine the pickpocket, as you refer to her, will not arrest me!" he stormed away and went into an empty dressing room sitting upon the small chair and picking up a pillow to yell into it. How his brother annoyed him so. "Who does he think he is anyway?" he asked himself as he sat there and recuperated from his screaming fit.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Mirielle traveled the back stage corridors looking for incriminating evidence. She had been at it for over an hour and found nothing. Grinding her teeth she pressed on then she saw a trap door. Walking over to it she peaked from side to side and tried to open it. After a few good pulls it creaked open and she started down the stairs. Then she remembered what Krissy had told her.  
  
"You're hand at the level of your eyes," she repeated over and over again as she descended.  
  
She neared the bottom and smiled thinking that she had made it there safely and then out of no where swung a rope. She caught it with her hand and then pulled the knife out of her back pocket. Quickly disarming the piece of rope she sighed. "People really need to figure out how to protect whatever they are protecting without using a noose," she murmured as she walked on.  
  
The dark cellars of the opera house were cold and dank. Mirielle shivered and went deeper into the basements. She still couldn't find anything, "Zed," she whispered. Further and further she went, still to no avail, aside from a few mice of course. She turned around and walked back up to avoid getting lost in the cellars. "Hmm," she hummed, "Where could it be?" she asked absentmindedly as she walked back towards the stairs and up them.  
  
As she closed the trap door she saw Akeem walking around back stage, "Excuse me," she said, "Do you know where I can find Miss Erika Noir?"  
  
Akeem laughed a little and then looked at Mirielle with a stern face, "I honestly cannot tell you that. I am not one to give up information that isn't any business of mine. Besides, if you want an appointment with her you'll go on a list with about ten thousand others."  
  
Mirielle mumbled under her breath and then asked, "Where can I find the keeper of the 'list?'"  
  
"I would have to say that your most likely bet would be with my uncle, Nadir," Akeem said thoughtfully, "But I can't promise anything. After all, she was the best, and most likely still is. She only keeps company with those she trusts."  
  
"Thanks," Mirielle said unconvincingly. She walked towards the auditorium and stage area to try and see if anything was going on there. "Well, if anything these criminals are clever," she said through her teeth as she tried to think of a way to get her guys.  
  
As Mirielle stomped away from Akeem, Erika stepped out of the shadows with Nadir. Erika's face was thoughtful and worried while Nadir was just worried. Nadir had come to know James as a friend despite his profession. Erika turned to Nadir.  
  
"Are you sure of her origin?" Erika asked.  
  
"Yes, she is the eldest child of Sherlock Holmes and Elizabeth Lestrade." Nadir confirmed, "She is here on important business for the Yard."  
  
"Probably James's latest project." Erika deduced.  
  
"He still won't tell you what is on that disk?" Nadir asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"No," Erika sighed, "I know he is selling it to the highest bidder on the market."  
  
"Has he given any consideration to retiring with you?"  
  
Erika smiled, "How long would that last, my friend? A year? No I won't force him to stop until he is ready."  
  
"He could stay here and help out. He would make an excellent addition to my staff." Nadir mused, "I could use someone like him."  
  
"Good idea," Erika laughed, "You can tell him."  
  
"No thank you. I leave that temper to you. Oh well, I still have Akeem, Aidan and Michael to convince. I'll tell them that they can beat up Dante."  
  
"Why do you say that? Yesterday, you told me as The Phantom I had no claim on his life for trying to seduce Christine."  
  
"That was until he had a confrontation with Christine today." Nadir froze at the look at Erika's eyes, "She is fine. Aidan stepped in as did Krissy and Jessamine."  
  
"Jessamine? The writer that's been around here?"  
  
"The pick pocket. Yes, apparently Aidan got her a job here." Nadir sneered, "I still can't believe Krissy hired her."  
  
"I can. Just remember how Krissy was when Buquet first found her and hired her. She was a little trickster herself especially at the Masquerade."  
  
Nadir tried not to smile as he remember those parties, "She sure knew how to get into trouble."  
  
"So did we, so do our heirs. I heard Akeem by accident walked into the dancer's dressing room yesterday."  
  
"Yes on a dare by your two sons. He has a hell of a bump on his head. Danesh was scolding him with fixing the cut on his forehead." Nadir chuckled, "He was wondering when Michael and Aidan were going to pay him."  
  
"Speaking of which, I haven't seen either yet. I hope they are keeping their noses clean." Erika worried.  
  
"They better be." James spoke up as he wrapped his arms around his wife, "I missed you this morning."  
  
"Meeting with the managers." Erika smiled as she kissed her husband hello.  
  
"I'd better be going. I have to protect The Opera from our children." Nadir grinned as he walked away. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched James pulled Erika back into the Shadows. Maybe James was closer to retiring than Erika had thought. Nadir smirked as he decided to seek out the Holmes girl.  
  
Mirielle groaned. Hours and hours of fruitless searching wore her out. "Where is he?" she asked herself looking for a dressing room or something of that sort with the name Nadir on it.  
  
She snorted and pressed on through the building. While she continued to work in her own little world Nadir followed her silently, just observing her habits and ways. He smirked as she became frustrated and her cheeks reddened.  
  
She finally turned around and noticed him, "Excuse me sir," she tried to put on her happiest face, "but do you know a man named Nadir?" she asked.  
  
"Why yes, in fact I do," he smiled, "He's right here."  
  
Mirielle tilted her head to the side and eyed him questioningly. "What do you mean?" Her sandy hair fluttered over her shoulders as her violet eyes looked at him with severe confusion burning in them.  
  
"I am Nadir," he laughed. "My, my, Mademoiselle Holmes, nothing gets by you." He grinned and then his face went deadly serious, "Mademoiselle, may I ask why you are poking your nose around here and why you request a meeting with Madame Noir?"  
  
"It's my job," she replied. "Besides, I need to question her about her whereabouts the other night. I have been told a few things which I should look into. I was also told that you were the man I should talk to about a meeting with Madame Noir. Would you be able to do that for me or should I keep trying myself?"  
  
"Oh no Mademoiselle," mused Nadir, "I could help you, but Madame Noir must agree beforehand. She's not easy to get a meeting with. I suggest you don't wait to continue your investigation until your meeting with her, because it could be a while. Au revoir Mademoiselle," he said walking away.  
  
Mirielle looked at Nadir walk away. A look of pure frustration covered her face, "How can it be so hard to get a meeting with a prima donna?" she looked up into the rafters and then massaged her temple.  
  
"Aidan!" Erika shouted at her son, who fell asleep on her cot. Aidan woke with a start he looked around the small dressing room until he spotted his mother's concerned eyes. Aidan rubbed the back of his head as he tried to explain to Erika why he was in there. Erika took a seat at the vanity while she waited for her son to gather his thoughts.  
  
"How long I have been out?" Aidan asked as he stretched.  
  
Erika shrugged and changed the subject gesturing to the mirror, "You know this is my dressing room. If you are tired your bed is just down the hallway."  
  
"I'm sorry I ducked in here to get away from Michael. He can be so annoying sometimes."  
  
"He is your brother, but I understand." Erika smiled, "I heard you got Jessamine a job here."  
  
"Yeah, she needs one." Aidan paused then knowing his mother won't judge, continued his thought, "Mom, she is a talented pickpocket. I was thinking of teaching her like how Grandpa taught me and Michael."  
  
"And Christine. Or did you forget when she swapped all your money from your back pocket to buy ice cream." Erika teased her son, "I think you should do as you see fit. I can't forbid you from doing it any more than your father can."  
  
Aidan nodded and decided to bring up his next concern, "Mama, what would you do if you knew someone close to you was making a big mistake but they won't listen to you."  
  
Erika tilted her head to the side, considering the question, and then answered her son, "I would probably hope for the best and be there to catch them when it didn't work out. Just like what your father and I did when you fell for Cosette."  
  
Aidan blushed, "I just don't want Michael to get arrested because he fell in love with that detective."  
  
Erika laughed at Aidan's horrified look when he let that last part slip, "I knew about that since you two came back. Let him be. Michael knows how to handle himself. Just be then when he has to walk away just as he was for you."  
  
"I will, Mama."  
  
"Now I have a meeting to get ready for. Nadir has told me that the detectives want a meeting." Erika smiled.  
  
"You can't, Mama. What if you let something slip?" Aidan panicked.  
  
Erika's grin went wicked very quickly, "Then we'll see how clever Holmes' children are. Besides they are meeting both sides of me. Who said they have a chance to ask questions."  
  
Mirielle and John met in the lobby. They both looked exhausted and frustrated. "Did you find anything?" asked John as he sat down in one of the chairs out there. He ran his hand through his hair and sighed.  
  
"Only that there are some strange people here, namely a Middle-Eastern man named Nadir," she replied. "How about you?"  
  
"Well, I found that we shouldn't mess with that table on stage," he shuddered, "and then the guy who yells at you tells you about some stupid lasso."  
  
Mirielle grimaced at the thought of the lasso, "Well I found that out yesterday. Maybe we should go to the hotel, Mum and Dad may have called with some information or something like that," she somberly walked towards the door.  
  
John pulled himself out of the chair and made his way across the lobby. He looked at the portraits on the walls as he left, 'Strange,' he thought, 'these all look similar to Christine or the two twins.' He noted that and then walked outside. He saw his sister getting ready to get into the driver's seat and his eyes opened wide. "I don't think so!" he yelled as he ran towards the car.  
  
He was too slow and she had climbed in already and turned the key. He went to open the door and Mirielle smirked, she had locked it. John scowled and tried to jiggle the handle. It wouldn't budge. He finally gave up and walked to the other side of the car and got into the passenger side. "So, little brother, are we ready to go?" she asked teasingly.  
  
"I'm never ready to go when you drive," he said pulling the seatbelt tighter. "Please, try and avoid making me want to retch."  
  
"I'll try," she smiled as they started to drive. She drove well, for the most part; it's just that she took after her mother in that aspect.  
  
Upon reaching the hotel John climbed out the car with a paled face. "Jerk," he murmured staggering towards the door. They got into the elevator again and went up to the room. "How many times are you going to get me sick before it sinks in that you can't drive?" he asked as she opened the door.  
  
"You only heaved once," She smiled, "Besides, you can't drive any better. You drive like Commish."  
  
"Shut up," John scowled, "I do not drive like Grandpa Grayson!"  
  
"Yes you do," she smirked as she almost closed him out of the room. John placed his foot between the door and the framing and pushed it open. Mirielle huffed and then looked at the message board. "Looks like we have an audio message," she sighed pressing the button.  
  
"Bonjour Mademoiselle and Monsieur Holmes," said the unfamiliar voice, "Welcome to Paris. I hope you are enjoying your stay. I will give you the chance to meet me at de'l Harmonie for forty-five minutes, tonight at six o'clock. You shall be greeted by Nadir and he will lead you to my private room. Goodbye Children."  
  
Mirielle smiled and looked at her brother who was now collapsed upon the bed clutching his stomach and moaning. "We got our interview!" she yelled triumphantly.  
  
John was about to say something when he had to jump up and run to the bathroom. Mirielle shuddered and John walked out again, "I think it's your interview Mir, if I look at food I'll get sick."  
  
"Wimp," she murmured. "Fine I'll go by myself but you better be ready to listen to every detail when I get back. I'll take my digital recorder and record the whole conversation with Madame Noir."  
  
"Go," motioned John towards the door, "Leave me alone." He curled up in a ball on the bed and closed his eyes as Mirielle left.  
  
She gently shut the door behind her and got out her keys. Looking at her watch it was five forty-five already, "Zed, another day wasted," she murmured shutting off the radio. She sped to the restaurant and climbed out after parking. She saw Nadir mumbling something to himself and walked up to him.  
  
Nadir briefly wondered how in hell he gets talked into this one. Granted he swore to protect against anything but still they have pulled this stunt since their younger days. Nadir muttered a string of curses in Arabian when he spotted Mirielle approach him.  
  
"Bonjour Mademoiselle," he bowed slightly, "Madame Noir is expecting you. Follow me," he abruptly turned and walked into the restaurant.  
  
Mirielle followed him into a small back room where a woman with deep brown hair and sparkling blue eyes was waiting for her. She silently clicked the button for the recorder and Nadir exited.  
  
"Bonjour Mademoiselle Holmes, where is your brother?" asked Erika in a sweet voice.  
  
"He couldn't make it. He's feeling a little under the weather," she sighed. "Madame Noir, I have reason to believe that you are of close relation to Christine Noir and Michael and Aidan. Am I correct?"  
  
"You would be," Erika smirked. "I am related to them."  
  
"Very well," she went on. "Beg pardon, but, where were you two days ago?" She asked jotting down a few notes, although she didn't need them.  
  
"I was in the Opera house, and I have witnesses who can prove it. If you would like Nadir could vouch for me," Erika said getting ready to get up to get him.  
  
"No, no that won't be necessary," Mirielle raised her eye brow and then said, "May I ask the name of your husband? You kept your maiden name and I am afraid there is no record of a marriage to Madame Erika Noir."  
  
"I think you should be able to tell me that," smirked Erika, trying to play mind games with the girl. "I knew your mother and father, they would be proud if you figured it out and I didn't tell you."  
  
Mirielle grumbled and then remembered her parents. Her eyes snapped back to Madame Noir and she pondered for several moments. No one came to mind. She didn't see anyone with her and there was no inclination of anyone.  
  
"This is tiresome Madame Noir," she said after fifteen minutes, "The fact that you don't answer is becoming suspicious."  
  
"Oh, look at that, thirty minutes is up, mon chère," she smiled. "I am afraid I have another appointment right now, but it was a pleasure to meet you." Erika got up, her red velvet dress slightly trailing behind her. "Au revoir," she smiled as she walked out a back door, the dry click of it locking ringing through Mirielle's head.  
  
Mirielle sat there for a few moments. Finally she got up and went to leave the room when she ran into a figure in black. Its face was covered with a white mask and its hair was hid by a black fedora. Deep blue eyes stared at her. Mirielle took a step back and fell into her chair. The Phantom was real.  
  
"Mademoiselle." The Phantom greeted in sharp tenor voice, "I heard that you have been poking around my theater lately. Why?"  
  
Mirielle gulped and tried to sound composed as she answered, "I'm investigating crime that took place in New London."  
  
The Phantom nodded, "So what brings you here to Paris then?"  
  
"We tracked the criminals involved here." Mirielle continued her confidence building as she remembered what her mother told her, "In fact, it was a move accredited to you that brought me to the Opera."  
  
The Phantom seemed amused, "Really? Do you think I was a part of it?"  
  
"Anyone who hides behind a mask has something to hide."  
  
"Mademoiselle, we all hide behind a mask. Some are easy to see than others. Everyone has their secrets."  
  
"Then maybe you can tell me where you were two days ago."  
  
The Phantom laughed, "You have your mother's tenacity even if you have your father's looks. I was here at the theater watching the auditions for the new Opera. No one saw me as it should be."  
  
"You people are not helping."  
  
"Then maybe you need to remove your mask, mademoiselle, and take a new look at things. Masks can blind us to the truth as well as hide it from ours."  
  
Mirielle huffed at the advice, "I thought you be warning me off."  
  
"I should since I have more to lose than it may appear." The Phantom smiled as he held out his hand gesturing to Mirielle, "However I see a little girl trying to prove herself to her family. She wants to move out of her parent's shadow and stand on her own. You can look, Mademoiselle, but don't touch. When you are in the theater, remember it is my world."  
  
"And you control it, right?"  
  
"No, I let things go the way they need to, but I can conceal and reveal many things. Watch your steps, mon cherie, I will be watching."  
  
With that said the Phantom disappeared in a cloud of smoke. Mirielle stumbled out of the dining room into the hallway trying to catch her breath. She looked up and down both sides of the hallway looking for some sign of which way the Phantom went. Finding nothing, she headed back to the Hotel, dejected since she had learned nothing new. Now she needed to talk to her mother about all this. The Phantom had too much insight into what she was feeling to continue with out some advice from her mother. 


	5. Chapter 5

A Sign: No Author's notes due to an unexpected creative streak. However management would like people to start reviewing or The Phantom Teddy Bear will be meeting Mr. Sharp Pointy Sword. Thank you and on with the show.  
  
Wandering Children  
  
Chapter 5- Beautiful Music.  
  
Mirielle walked into the hotel room quietly. She smiled warmly as her brother slept, 'So much for having him listen to the tape now,' she thought. Sitting down in front of the screen she dialed home. Her mother picked up.  
  
"Hi Mum," she smiled a little distractedly.  
  
"Hello Mir," Beth replied, "What's wrong? You look upset."  
  
"I just wanted to tell you that John and I haven't found anything yet. Well aside from the fact that we shouldn't touch the prop table and there is some freaky Middle-Eastern guy named Nadir stalking the place. We're still looking for some things and my meeting with Madame Noir didn't help either. She wasted the whole interview trying to make me deduce who her husband was, and as dad always says, 'never make assumptions without proper evidence.'"  
  
"I know, I know." she smiled sympathetically, "You'll find something. I'm sure of it. Besides, inside Nadir is a big teddy bear" Beth then smirked and teasingly asked, "Did you meet the Phantom yet?"  
  
Mirielle chuckled at the comment about Nadir and said, "First of all, that man could never be anything but scary and actually," Mirielle replied, her expression darkening, "I did tonight. He was intimidating that's for sure. He kept saying something about how we all wear our masks and gah, it was so confusing!"  
  
"Well, I think I know what he meant," Beth said reassuringly, "Tell you what, go to 14 Rouier Avenue and talk to your Great Uncle Leroux. I'm sure he'll be able to help. Just remember Mirielle, do what you think is right. Don't let anything stand in your way."  
  
"I will Mum, but I better get going. I want to go over the tape again," she smiled falsely.  
  
"Bye Mir, I hope you look up your Uncle. He'll be glad to see you again, after all, last time he saw you, you couldn't talk," added Beth before they disconnected.  
  
"Uncle Leroux," mused Mirielle, "well I suppose that's where I'm off to tomorrow."  
  
Looking through her bag she pulled out a tee shirt and shorts. She walked into the bathroom, brushed her teeth and then changed into her pajamas. After reviewing the tape four times, she climbed between the sheets and immediately fell asleep the phantom's words ringing through her head.  
  


* * *

  
The next morning Mirielle woke up at seven, only to see her brother standing by the window looking out onto the city. "What took you so long?" he asked turning around, only to shock Mirielle because he was dressed and ready to go.  
  
"Just let me take a shower," she looked up groggily. Climbing out of the bed at a snail's pace she made her way to the bathroom. She rubbed her eyes and yawned. Slashing some cool water on her face she looked into the mirror, "We all wear masks," rang through her head.  
  
She quickly got into the shower and relaxed. After a short shower she got dressed and went into the room, "Okay John, today we're going to Uncle Leroux for some information. Got it?"  
  
"As long as I can drive we can go anywhere you want," he smirked. "Besides I have the keys this time," he held them up and jingled them slightly. Mirielle rolled her eyes and they left the room.  
  
"14 Rouier Avenue," repeated John as they got closer to the house. They peered out both sides and then John made a sharp turn and parked. He turned to Mirielle and said, "I had to do the sharp turn!" She just laughed and they got out of the car.  
  
Mirielle took the lead and knocked on the door. An aged man answered the door. He smiled warmly and said, "Why, if it isn't the Tic and Tac?" he smiled. "Your mother called me last night to tell me you were coming."  
  
"H,i Uncle Leroux," John managed to smile, no matter how uncomfortable he was with meeting this man that he hadn't ever talked to, but he trusted his mother.  
  
"Why, if it isn't little John," he smiled, "Come in, come in you two." The twins followed him into the small house and he sat them down in the sitting room. "Would you like anything?"  
  
"No thank you," smiled John, well as pleasantly as he could.  
  
"No thanks, Uncle Etienne. However, we would like some information." said Mirielle leaning forward towards her aging uncle.  
  
"What do you need?" he asked sitting down in a large red, high-backed chair.  
  
"I need to know how Aidan, Michael, and Christine are related to Erika Noir. I also need to know who her husband is," said Mirielle straight and to the point.  
  
"Well, I can tell you that the Opera's library would have the information you're looking for. Also, in Paris, there's a graveyard with the Noir Crypt. You may want to see that for yourselves as well," Leroux said smiling at the two of them.  
  
"And, who exactly is Dante?" interjected John. "We know he is out to get Christine, we know that he's not exactly the cleanest tissue in the pail, and we know for some odd reason he hates almost everyone on the stage crew."  
  
"He's the son of Perdita Umberto and Ruelle, Count de Chagny. Your parents actually investigated a few cases with Ruelle as a main player. Ask your mother about when she broke her arm. She'll love to tell you that story," he chuckled, "but you have to watch out for him. He's as crazy as his father was. Watch out for him, if you don't you'll regret it," Etienne explained.  
  
"Thanks for the advice," Mirielle said. "It's great that you helped us."  
  
"It wasn't any trouble," he smiled, "Last time I saw you two was when you were in diapers. But Mirielle, why don't you come to Paris to work?" he joked. "They have plenty of openings as a French Officer."  
  
Mirielle laughed at her uncle's remark and then stopped. 'It's not a bad idea,' she thought to herself. 'I could work in France and make a name for myself, instead of being known as the daughter of the Great Detective, I could be The Great Detective.'  
  
"Well Uncle Etienne," said John getting up, "We have to be going. We will definitely keep in contact with you about what is going on. Come on Mir, I think we should head to that graveyard."  
  
"Good idea," she said getting up. She walked over to her uncle and gave him a hug, "I'll inform you of any developments," she smiled, "We'll let ourselves out."  
  
"Au revoir Tic and Tac," Leroux said as they left. "Such smart kids," he said as the door shut behind them.  
  


* * *

  
Erika walked over to the video phone. James was out on business and her children were out running errands. Quietly, she punched up a number and waited. Watson's face appeared on the screen. His face was positively jubilant at the sight of Erika.  
  
"Madame Noir, What a pleasure to see you again." Watson exclaimed.  
  
"Bonjour, Doctuer. Is Beth home?" Erika asked.  
  
"Yes she is. I will get her right now."  
  
Erika waited a few moments. Finally Beth's face appeared on the screen. The two friends smiled at each other brightly.  
  
"Erika, what a surprise! I just talked with Mirielle last night about your meeting." Beth informed her.  
  
"She is a pleasant young lady. I have a feeling I frustrated the hell out of her." Erika grinned, "She didn't like how I sidestepped her questions."  
  
"She won't. I heard The Phantom made his presence known." Beth returned Erika's grin, "Something about masks."  
  
"Oui, I believe I gave her advice about that. She is definitely is your daughter. You should check on your son though. He wasn't feeling good last night." Erika stated concerned.  
  
"Really? I wonder why? John is normally the healthier of the two." Beth pondered before turning to her friend, "Can I ask you question?"  
  
"If it is about my husband, I know nothing."  
  
"Rats!" Beth joked lightly causing the two of them to laugh, "But seriously, Will you be willing to watch over them for me?"  
  
"Of course considering, Michael has a mild crush on your daughter."  
  
"Really? Anything we can do to encourage... I mean... discourage this?"  
  
"Mon ami, it is out of our hands now. Let them work it out if she likes him back."  
  
Beth smiled, "Our husbands are going to kill us if they hook up, are they?"  
  
Erika nodded as she saw James return to the hide out, "Oui. I have to go."  
  
"Okay I'll talk to later."  
  
"Au revoir." Erika smiled as she cut the connection just as James walked in. His arms full of roses. Erika smiled as she walked to him. She just hoped that Beth's children are as understanding as their parents.  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* John climbed in the driver's seat and turned the key. He plugged in the name of the crypt into the positioning system and put the car on auto pilot. "Thank God Mum let us use the good cruiser," he smirked lightly holding the steering wheel.  
  
"Yes," said Mirielle distractedly, "I wonder what we're going to find in the crypt," she thought out loud.  
  
"I don't know and we won't know until we get there," John said as they continued to drive along. Mirielle looked out the window and over Paris, a sigh escaped her lips and John raised an eyebrow towards her, but said nothing.  
  
They arrived at the cemetery and climbed out of the car. The dreary day and the somber setting made them both simultaneously shiver. They chuckled nervously and walked into the cemetery. There were tombstones over 150 years old in there. Mirielle walked by each one reading the name until they found the mausoleum for the Noir family. John pushed the door open and went into the crypt.  
  
They read each name; "Erik, Christine, Christian, Erik," said John as he traced the letters with his fingers. Then he saw the next name, "Erika and James?" he said out loud. Mirielle rushed over and he said, "James? Who is James? That's an odd variant in names."  
  
"It's probably her husband," said Mirielle. Then, she heard the door creak, "Come, quickly," she said pulling him behind the stairs. They heard footsteps above them, and saw two people coming down. Mirielle and John held their breaths and waited.  
  
They peeked out to see Christine and Michael walking by. Neither said a thing as they walked one of the wall plaques. Christine carried an armful of beautiful flowers while Michael held a tattered violin case. It was one of the newest plague, yet it too had aged with time. Mirielle could hardly read it from her spot.  
  
Christine stepped forward and placed the flowers on the floor in front of it. Michael stood back as he watched his sister. Christine kneeled down on the dirty floor and bowed her head in prayer. Michael had closed his eyes.  
  
"Grandpapa, Please watch over us in our time of need," Christine whispered softly, "The devil is in the Opera House and we can't cast him out. I'm afraid that Mama is in great danger. So great that not even Papa can protect her."  
  
Michael spoke up as he placed a hand on his sister's shoulder, "Please not only protect us but anyone else who is a target of this madman. We can't be everywhere. And make our little angel here sing beautifully at the gala in two day's time. Mama is so proud of her and is sure that you will be too."  
  
What happened next touched all who was listening. Later on Mirielle would swear that she could hear the angels crying at such a beautiful sound while John will just smile as he remembered the scene.  
  
Christine stood up as Michael opened the case. He pulled out the most beautifully made violin that either sibling had ever seen. John recognized it as a Stradivarius. Michael positioned himself to play. As his bow played across the strings, a beautiful sound filled the Crypt.  
  
Mirielle closed her eyes as she let the music flooded her sense. A soft yet forceful voice joined in as the music played. It was like an angel come down from Heaven and was singing in this small graveyard for those who had passed on. When the song ended, Mirielle opened her eyes only to find herself crying. She turned to John who looked shell shocked and in a daze. A few moments passed until he finally came out of it. They exchanged a smile before peeking back out.  
  
The crypt was empty except for the spring flowers. Mirielle stepped out and approached the plaque. The Plaque read: Erik Noir VI 2050-2100 A devoted friend, father, and teacher. You will be greatly missed.  
  
"That is their grandfather." Mirielle whispered, "He was only fifty when he died."  
  
"I wonder how he died." John wandered out loud, "Maybe we can understand what the hell is going on."  
  
Mirielle shook her head, "No, we won't. We are only here to find the people who robbed Downing Street. I'm not going to run around chasing ghosts or intrude on someone's past. Let's go back to the hotel."  
  
Mirielle and John had returned from the graveyard still shocked by what they saw and heard. John rode back in complete silence, his eyes still wide with shock. Mirielle sniffled and wiped her nose as they rode along. When they got back to the hotel Mirielle decided to go to the marketplace to browse around while John wanted to stay in the room.  
  
She rode down the elevator; her red face was going back to its normal color. She reached the lobby and walked through the streets to the market. Her French was good enough so she could talk to anyone she needed to. Upon reaching the market she browsed around.  
  
There were multiple useless things on the tables, as well as things that could prove most helpful. She spotted a book lying face down on the table. It was a rose red diary with nothing written in it. On the inside was a pressed rose bookmark. She checked the price, "five credits," she murmured to herself. Digging in her pocket she grabbed the credits and gave it to the clerk. "Thanks," she smiled taking the bag.  
  
She turned around and found herself looking into those green eyes. "Pardon," she blushed nervously. "I didn't mean to block your way."  
  
"It is fine," he smiled, "You weren't blocking my view at all."  
  
He tensed a little bit as her creamy skin turned pink, her eyes sparkling like gems. Mirielle remembered the beautiful song he played on that violin and she almost began to tear again, but held it back.  
  
"How are you?" she asked. 'Zed, I'm stupid,' she thought, 'the only thing I can come up with is, 'How are you?' Gah, I'm a moron.'  
  
"Better," he smirked. "What's in the bag?" he pointed to it, "I don't mean to be rude, but I just like to know things."  
  
"It's a book," she replied. "I liked the way it looked so I bought it, I don't know what I'll do with it, that girl Jessamine might want it though," she stuttered slightly and then regained confidence, "Besides I don't have anything to write about."  
  
"You must have something," he smiled, "I'm sure that someone as intelligent as yourself could come up with something to write about."  
  
"No," she laughed, "I was never good at writing."  
  
"Who says Jessamine is," he smirked deviously. 'If Aidan heard me say that I would be dead,' he thought to himself. "Now you are coming to the gala in two days correct?"  
  
"If the case isn't solved by then, which I hope it will be," she sighed, "I think I need a few days off work. But then again, if I take days off then I won't be chief inspector by thirty."  
  
Michael frowned to himself. Her aspirations were definitely opposite of his. He sucked it up and smiled, "Well you have your dreams."  
  
"Yes, yes I do," she smiled. 'What am I doing making small talk?' she asked herself with frustration, 'I should be investigating.' "Well I should be getting back to the hotel," her face turned solemn again; "I have work to do."  
  
"Well, when you're done with that would you be willing to attend a concert tonight in Box five at the Opera House?" Michael blurted out on a sudden impulse. He felt his cheeks reddening and almost regretted asking the question.  
  
Mirielle didn't know how to respond. She looked at him and thought hard, "I suppose I could. I mean John probably shouldn't know about it, but I think I can manage to get out." She really didn't know how to respond. She cursed herself for not having something better to say but just smiled like nothing was wrong. Gently twisting the bag on her finger she looked at him and then said, "Well I guess I'll see you tonight. Au revoir M'sieur."  
  
"A tout a l'heure Mademoiselle," Michael hesitated for a moment and then kissed her on the cheek. His heart skipped a beat as she smiled back and shyly waved. Mirielle walked away as Michael just stood there, watching her go. "Au revoir," he breathed quietly waving slowly, his eyes unblinking. Several passersby looked at him strangely before he shook his head and sprinted towards the Opera House, a smile plastered on his face.  
  
Michael fussed over his appearance in the mirror in his room. He decided to wear some vintage clothing that belonged to his famous ancestor. Surprisingly, they fit him perfectly. A smile touched Michael's lips as he stared at his reflection. The green vest and tie suited his appearance perfectly. It was a dark enough green to highlight his eyes. His ancestor had excellent taste in clothing. Not for the first time in his life, Michael wandered if maybe he should be the one training to be the Phantom.  
  
The night was set. Michael felt little guilt about taking Mirielle to the Opera. His father was going to watch from the back stage area while Aidan worked the stage crew to help keep an eye on Dante and flirt with Jessamine. Christine and Mama were performing tonight. So Michael was on his own, but he won't be that way for long. He was looking forward to unraveling the mystery of Mirielle Holmes, the woman who fascinated him.  
  
Michael glanced at his watch. He had better hurry or Mirielle would be waiting for him. Michael snatched up a bouquet of lilies. Absently he admired the rainbow of colors. They reminded him of Mirielle, beautiful, lively, yet tough. So he bought them for her. Humming a tune, Michael shrugged on his jacket and walked out of his room with a bounce in his step.  
  
Mirielle walked into the room and threw the diary onto the counter by the mirror. It almost seemed as though she was floating around the room as she pulled things out of drawers and slammed them shut with no regard for the furniture.  
  
John couldn't help but be curious at his sister's chipper mood and raised an eyebrow, "What are you so happy about?" Striking his father's signature position in the chair he starred her down and tried to deduce why she was so happy. He looked to the bag, "What kind of book did you get Mir?"  
  
"It was a spur of the moment decision," she shrugged, "It's a diary although I don't have any use for it. I think I'll give it to that Jessamine girl, you know, the writer," she said throwing a pair high hells out of her bag. John looked at her questioningly, "What?" she asked, "Just because you didn't know I had high heels doesn't mean I didn't have them."  
  
John shrugged and then asked a more important question, "Where, exactly, are you going? Mum and Dad are supposed to call back and what am I going to tell them when they find out that your running rampant all over Paris?"  
  
Mirielle rolled her eyes and went through her suitcase. She pulled out a lilac dress and tossed it onto the bed. She held it up in front of her and looked in the mirror; the color matched her eyes perfectly.  
  
Nodding she placed it down and walked to the bathroom, "John, go get something to eat and I promise I won't be late."  
  
"I didn't ask when you would be back, I asked where you were going!" he said with a hint of anger. "It is getting rather suspicious that you won't tell me you know," he said knocking on the bathroom door.  
  
Instead of an answer all he heard was the shower turning on, "Mir!"  
  
It was too late. With a sigh he went out into the hall and contemplated where to get some food. 'Like Dad said,' he thought, 'there's a bistro on every corner.'  
  
Mirielle hurried out of the shower and slipped on her clothes. She looked in the mirror and smiled. Her dress sparkled mildly while her eyes glittered in the light. Her feet were going to hurt by the end of the performance but that could be worked around as there was sitting involved during an Opera. She smoothed out the front and grabbed a brush. Quickly going over her hair once, she looked at the time.  
  
"Zed, I'm going to be late." She grabbed her purse and ran out of the hotel room. She fidgeted uneasily in the elevator as she waited for it to go down. 'Just my luck, it stops on every solitary floor,' she thought as the glass elevator edged its way down.  
  
Michael waited on the first landing of the stairs. Nervously, he looked over the crowd for Mirielle. Why was he so nervous? It wasn't like he never took a lady out before. Granted, he hadn't taken out someone like Mirielle, but still.  
  
"You seem troubled, my friend." Akeem observed as he stood next to Michael.  
  
"With good reason." Michael confided, "If my brother ever find out about what I'm about to do, he'll tear me apart and scatter the pieces all over the world."  
  
"The female detective?" Akeem guessed, when Michael nodded, he continued, "She is very beautiful. I can understand."  
  
"I'm glad someone does." Michael sighed, "I've fallen for her, Akeem, and nothing can become of it."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I'm the one she is hunting. I'm a criminal. If she found out, it would shatter her. Yet I can't stop myself for seeing her."  
  
Akeem wasn't sure what to say, except, "You have more options in front of you than you think. I have a feeling you two will work it out."  
  
"How? Father wants me and Aidan to take over for him soon." Michael sighed, "And Christine is in training to be the Phantom."  
  
"Christine wants to be a singer first. With the mask, there can be nothing ahead of it. Especially with a de Chagny running around." Akeem smiled reassuring to his best friend, "Now I see a beautiful woman waiting for a ghost to sweep her away."  
  
Michael's head snapped up as she spotted Mirielle. Saying a quick good bye, he hurried towards her. Akeem smiled as his friend tried to act all mysterious yet charming. Maybe some day Michael will see his true path. Akeem waited as the crowd in the lobby began to go to their seats.  
  
Mirielle zipped over to the theatre and saw Michael standing in front. He had on an old fashioned suit with lilies in his hand. She flicked some hair behind her ear and then walked up to him, "Bonne soire," she smiled.  
  
"Bonne soire Mademoiselle," he kissed her on the cheek and handed her the flowers. She took them in her hands and delicately smelled them. Her sparkling eyes were enough thanks for Michael and he put out his arm, "We should get to our seats."  
  
Smiling, Mirielle accepted it and together they walked into the theater. Michael smiled as they passed Akeem. Mirielle smiled when Akeem gave them a small smile and bow. The way to Box Five was walked in silence for neither knew what the say. As they approached the box, Michael froze mid-step.  
  
Mirielle craned her neck to see what had bothered Michael. She watched as a well dressed man with grey hair walk into the box. He looked very dignified as he moved inside. Mirielle heard Michael muttered the word 'Merde' before pulling her into an alcove.  
  
"What is he doing here? 'Michael muttered, "He is supposed to be back stage with Mama."  
  
"Michael, who is he?" Mirielle asked suspiciously.  
  
Michael looked at her knowing he had to lie and hated himself for it. Then an idea hit him. Heaving a heavy sigh, Michael tried to explain, "That is my father. Lately, he has been pushing Aidan and me to marry. If he sees you with me, he'll get the wrong idea."  
  
"I think I understand." Mirielle nodded.  
  
"I doubt we can get a seat anywhere else tonight, since this is the closing night." Michael grumbled, "If we sit in there, you have to do me one favor."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Don't tell him what you do for a living or who you are." Michael pleaded, "He is distrustful of police yet he is a big fan of Sherlock Holmes and might think you are related to him."  
  
"I can do that." Mirielle promised with a smile, "I won't say a word. I don't want to be pestered with questions about my father right now."  
  
Michael feigned surprise, "You really are related to him. Then we will have to be really careful."  
  
Mirielle laughed as she led Michael back into the hallway. Smiling they walked into Box Five. James looked up from his program and smiled at his son. He quirked an eyebrow at the beautiful girl who walked in on Michael's arm. Michael noticed the hint and motioned to Mirielle.  
  
"Papa, I want you to meet Mirielle Watson. She is a local art student." Michael improvised quickly.  
  
James relaxed as he took Mirielle's hand and kissed it, "A pleasure, mademoiselle."  
  
"Merci, the same, Monsieur Noir." Mirielle smiled hoping to be corrected.  
  
"Your welcome." James smiled before turning to Michael, "I didn't know you had a date."  
  
"Neither did I until this afternoon. How is Mama? Shouldn't you be with her?" Michael questioned.  
  
James chuckled, "She is fine. I was shooed away by your Uncle Nadir. He promised to watch over her for me. I came here to watch her perform from the audience's point of view."  
  
"I didn't know family members could watch the performances from backstage." Mirielle remarked.  
  
"Only in special cases." James shrugged, "Now what exactly do you study in the art field?"  
  
"Art History." Mirielle answered, thankful she took some classes on the subject in college, "I hope to go to Italy soon to study the Masters."  
  
Michael smiled, "I hear that the Churches in Rome are real master pieces."  
  
"They are." Mirielle smiled, "Especially those built and decorated during the Renaissance Period. Several art techniques were developed and fine tuned during that time."  
  
Michael gave her a bright smile while James nodded to her knowledge. Mirielle felt proud of her acting skills. Music floated up to the box. James motioned that they take their seats. Michael walked Mirielle to front of the box. Mirielle primly sat on the end next to Michael while James sat on the other side of Michael. She smiled softly as she recognized the music from the opera, Carmen.  
  
During the performance, Mirielle was utterly captivated by the magic of Erika Noir. Never had she seen such a talented artist on the stage. It was if she was Carmen, not someone trying to become Carmen. Mirielle had seen the opera several times in her youth with her parents.  
  
Once when Signora Umberto played the part, Mirielle remembered coming away from the opera unimpressed. However, here was a real singer who captivated and drew in the audience making them feel her character's emotions.  
  
Mirielle glanced over at her companions to see if she was the only one affected by the music. Michael had a small smile on his face as he kept time with his foot. His father was absorbed by the beauty of his wife's music. Mirielle was surprise to see his eyes stare at Erika with pure love and utter devotion. She looked away since she felt like intruding.  
  
Mirielle jumped when she felt something grip her hand. Looking at her hand, she noticed that Michael's covered hers. Mirielle looked up to gaze at Michael's face as he gazed at her. A blush crept across her cheeks and Mirielle turned her head back towards the stage.  
  
John, who was by now fully satisfied, walked back to the hotel. His stomach full and the wheels of his mind turning, he was a happy person. He took the stairs instead of the elevator and walked up to the floor.  
  
Quickly sitting down by the screen he punched in the numbers to his parent's house and let it ring. "Hello," answered his father.  
  
"Hello Dad," John sighed. "We are still at a loss for information. Nothing seems to be turning up. This phantom, whoever or whatever, it is, is pretty good at covering over tracks that's for sure."  
  
"I know. Specters are clever things, speaking of clever where is your sister?" asked Sherlock once he realized she was no where in the picture.  
  
"What about Mirielle?" Beth interjected. She walked up to the screen and sat down beside her husband. "Where is she John?" she asked in a concerned voice.  
  
"I was just about to say that she got dressed up and went out. I don't know where but she wore that lilac dress and high heels. She was acting strangely happy and bought a diary but now wants to give it away. I tried to find out where she was going, but she sent me out for food and wouldn't answer any questions. I am telling you Mum, it was harder than interrogating suspects," he sighed.  
  
"Don't worry," smiled Beth, "I'm sure she can take care of herself."  
  
Sherlock looked at his wife in confusion. For the first time in twenty years he had absolutely no clue as to what she was talking about. "What?" he asked, "Moments ago you were worried and now you have no objections."  
  
"Trust me Sherlock, I know what I'm talking about," she turned to her husband. A slightly devious smile formed on her lips as she looked at him. He raised an eyebrow at her and shook his head slightly. "Trust me," she sighed again.  
  
"I trust you," he said. John grimaced at his parents and cleared his throat to break their eye contact with each other. "I'm sorry John," chuckled Sherlock, "but listen to your mother. Although I have no idea what she is talking about I am sure that she wouldn't let your sister wander about Paris without a worry unless she knew exactly what she's talking about," Sherlock stressed the last half of the sentence. He didn't want anything to happen to his little girl. He may not have always valued little children but when it was his own he was as concerned as the next father.  
  
"I'm sure Mum wouldn't do that," John agreed. "However, it's getting late and I have to wait for Mirielle to get back so I'm going to hang up. Besides, I should go over that tape of the interview. Bye Mum. Bye Dad," John disconnected and walked over to the digital recorder. He pressed play and went to sit on the chair. Closing his eyes he listened intently trying to find secret meanings or things of that sort in the conversation.  
  
Mirielle stood with Michael as they gave a stand ovation to the company for an excellent performance. A smile spread across her face as the lights came up. Michael smiled as he noticed the look of pure enjoyment on her face. Michael turned to move only to find his father gone.  
  
"Erika really is an excellent singer." Mirielle sighed, "I only wish I could hear her all the time."  
  
"Maybe someday you can." Michael teased.  
  
Mirielle laughed lightly. Michael felt his legs almost give out on him. He gripped the seat to steady himself. God, she laughed so beautifully. Where was he going to find the strength to walk away from her? Forcing a smile, he tried to bring his body under control.  
  
Mirielle glanced at her wrist com, "Oh my god, it's 10:30. I have to hurry back before my brother worries too much."  
  
Michael nodded as he took her hand, "We can't have that."  
  
"He'll probably think the thieves I'm after have kidnapped me." Mirielle laughed.  
  
"Definitely can't have that." Michael joked as well but was thinking how tempting of an idea it was just to be with her.  
  
They stood there in silence. Neither wanted to move. Michael had to fight the urge to steal a kiss from her. Both began to blush as their thoughts began to revolve if they should kiss.  
  
"I should get going." Mirielle stated softly.  
  
Michael tucked her hand into the nook of his arm and smiled, "Of course, mon cherie. I will walk you to your car."  
  


* * *

  
Mirielle smelled the lilies one last time before slowly opening the door. It was eleven o'clock and she was sure her brother was asleep. The door creaked and she stepped in. Her brother looked asleep on the chair. She smiled warmly at the image and placed the flowers on the dresser.  
  
John's eyes snapped open and he was out of his trance. Glancing at the clock he noted the time and looked at her suspiciously, "Mirielle, where have you been? Where did you get those flowers? Mum and Dad called and they were worried about you, what are you going to tell them?" he pressed the questions on her as he jumped from the chair.  
  
"I was walking back and I saw the flowers, I thought they were pretty. Is that a crime?" she asked, although blatantly lying.  
  
"I think you're lying, no, I know you're lying," his lip curling as he ripped a tag off of the bouquet of flowers and started to read it out loud, "To Mirielle, a flower among thorns. From, Michael." He scowled at his sister. "Now we're lying are we? Oh, well I would like to ask, like one of these thorns he claims you're surrounded by, is he one? Is he a deadly prick?"  
  
Mirielle gasped at her brother's protective behavior. Her face burned red at his caustic remarks. She smartly slapped him across the face and stormed into the bathroom  
  
"John Henry Holmes!" she yelled, "how dare you accuse people of being such things!"  
  
John rubbed his cheek and climbed onto his bed. "Women," he sighed lifting his hand from her cheek. He had a red hand print on his cheek and he winced when he saw his reflection. Making his way over to the door he said, "Mir, c'mon Mir. Please don't be mad."  
  
Mirielle walked out of the bathroom in a tee shirt and shorts and climbed into her bed. She didn't even acknowledge her brother at all as she fell asleep. John waited until his cheek stopped stinging and the laid down. "Holy zed mum is going to kill me if she hears about this," he sighed as he drifted off to sleep.  
  
A teddy bear dressed as the Phantom is sitting in some horrible torture device with several sharp pointy swords are aimed at it. Tucked in it's arms is a sign that says: Help please! 


	6. Chapter 6

(Angelina walks out alone holding the signature notebook and waves) Hey everybody! Since Mysha is in Las Vegas this week *grumbles about lack of people to talk to* I got to do the editing! Aren't you a lucky audience?  
  
Audience: *Crickets chirp*  
  
A: T_T Oh well – As Mysha would say, on with the show! *throws the notebook up in the air and walks away where a paper falls on the ground showing -  
  
Wandering Children  
  
Chapter 6- Family Tiffs  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Aidan was steaming as he stalked around the backstage. His gray eyes flashed with anger as he searched for his treacherous brother. How stupid was Michael. It was only a matter of time before their father found out. Especially if he kept taking her out.  
  
Everyone noticed Aidan's dark mood and steered away. Jessamine watched him with concern, but Krissy stopped her from going after him. Jessamine looked at the older woman questioningly.  
  
"Don't mess with an anger bull, chère, or he'll charge at you." Krissy stated sagely.  
  
Jessamine nodded as she watched Aidan march up to Michael who was talking to Nadir. Aidan grabbed his brother by his collar and dragged him away. Nadir watched them go away with an amused look on his face before turning and walking away.  
  
Christine finished her turn on stage to see Michael struggling against Aidan's hold. Aidan looked furious and ready to kill. Concerned, Christine walked away from practice to follow them.  
  
In a secluded area, Aidan let go of Michael. The two brothers glared at each other. Christine stood off to the side watching them warily. She could hear them perfectly clear.  
  
"What was that for?" Michael shouted.  
  
"What the zed were you thinking?! Bringing her here?" Aidan yelled back, "You could have been busted if she recognized Papa or if Papa recognized her."  
  
"How was I to know that Father was going to be there?!"  
  
"You should have thought about it! I can't believe you put everyone here in danger like that."  
  
"And you didn't once. What about taking Cosette to the roof that one night when you know Mama and Papa go there together?" Michael shot back, "You shouldn't throw stones."  
  
Aidan didn't answer his face grew darker. Suddenly he jumped at Michael throwing a punch. Christine screamed as her brothers were soon trying to kill each other. Quickly she pulled them apart.  
  
"Stupid boys!" she spat at them as she stood between, "Fighting over some stupid woman. Aidan you should be happy for Michael, not lecturing him. At least he is trying to deter them."  
  
"He isn't scaring her away, Christine. The fool is wooing her." Aidan growled.  
  
"Even so; He has a right." Christine countered, "At least he is doing something and not checking out the new stage hands."  
  
"He's going to get us caught." Aidan grumbled.  
  
"I won't, if anyone gets caught it's me." Michael vowed, "I'll go down alone if that is what you want."  
  
"Michael be reasonable." Christine pleaded, "We are a family. Papa won't let you hang alone. Mama won't either."  
  
"I will." Aidan promised, "If the Yardie catches you, I refuse to help."  
  
Christine knew she wasn't getting through so she settled for the next best thing. She slapped them hard across the face.  
  
"Fine. You both will hang together then. You are too stupid not to. I won't cry at your funerals then." Christine yelled in French, "Merde, how did I get stuck with two brothers like you!"  
  
Christine walked away from her two shocked brothers. Erika softly walked up with an amused grin on her face. Michael and Aidan held their cheeks as they watched their little sister stalk way. Erika cleared her throat. Both boys looked at the ground abashed at what they had done.  
  
"I think your sister is very displeased with your behavior. Now do you mind telling me what has gotten my sons to behave like fighters in my theater?" Erika smirked evilly.  
  
Christine was mad. More mad than she had ever been before. Her blue eyes burned as she stormed away from her fighting brothers. Her fists were clenched tightly, her nails dug into her palms, but she didn't care. She looked back to see her mother talking to them and then smashed into something. Falling backwards and onto the floor she looked up still scowling. She saw Mirielle and John, 'Oh great,' she thought, 'just the person I wanted to see, the object of my brother's affection and misery.'  
  
John rubbed his chest where she had hit him and then stuck out a hand, "I am sorry Mademoiselle. You look upset," he noted as he pulled her up. She brushed herself off and was about to walk away when a sudden impulse made him say, "Would you like to come to the costume store with us?"  
  
Christine thought for several moments and then smiled, "I would be delighted. I need to get out of this stuffy Opera House anyway."  
  
John smiled and Mirielle gave her brother a mischievous glance. The three walked to the car and John climbed in the driver's seat while Mirielle sat in back and Christine joined John in the front.  
  
They arrived at the costume store and Mirielle and John's eyes opened wide. They had never seen a store so large and full of bright colored clothes. Christine, Mirielle, and John began to skim the costumes. John quickly pulled something out and walked over to Christine and Mirielle.  
  
"Do you think this is fine?" he held up the costume for them to see.  
  
Mirielle and Christine broke into fits of laughter. John gave them questioning glances and looked back at the costume. Christine was the first to speak as she regained composure, "John, that's a girl's costume!" John's face turned bright red as he looked at the tag.  
  
He quickly put it back and looked to them, "I was kidding! I swear I was."  
  
The two girls just looked at each other and laughed at John's oblivious behavior. John stalked away to the men's section and pulled out a knight's costume. He looked at the tag and mumbled, "Knight of Templar," he shrugged and looked at the price. It wasn't too bad so he decided on picking that one.  
  
Meanwhile Christine and Mirielle were on the opposite side of the store. Mirielle was picking out random costumes, while Christine was taking her time. Then, Christine gasped and pulled out a nymph costume. "Mirielle come here," she said holding it up. Mirielle walked over and looked at her curiously. "It's perfect!" she exclaimed as she held it out in front of Mirielle.  
  
"What, exactly, is it?" asked Mirielle looking at the costume. It was a blue and silver tunic with a head piece. The head piece was made of water lilies and Mirielle felt the smooth fabric between her fingers.  
  
"It's a nymph costume," she replied coolly. "Trust me, it's perfect. Besides, it matches your hair perfectly. And from what I've heard you like lilies."  
  
"Who told you that?" Mirielle asked taken aback by Christine's straightforwardness, "How did you hear? Speak up."  
  
Christine chuckled and handed her the costume, "I have connections," she smirked. "It's not like I don't know what is happening with my older brother."  
  
Mirielle smiled slightly and played with the fabric in her hands. A slight blush crept across Mirielle's cheeks and then she went straight faced again. "We better pay for these. Now where is John?"  
  
John walked up to them and held up the new costume, a smirk on his lips, "I think I found something that could work." Christine and Mirielle chuckled as they walked up to the cash register and paid for the costumes.  
  
"I know a better café," Christine said, "It's just a little ways away." She led them down the street and onto a small café. "Bonjour Henri," she said to the man answering the door.  
  
"Bonjour Christine," he smiled opening the door for all three of them. He closed it behind them and they were seated at a small table.  
  
Mirielle and John looked at each other and nodded. "Christine, you have such a perfect voice, who taught you to sing?" Mirielle asked expertly.  
  
"Madame Noir is a wonderful tutor," she replied, "I'm glad she chose to tutor me."  
  
"Noir isn't a very common last name, are you and Madame Noir related?" John asked leaning forward on the table, his blue eyes taking on a steelier look, although he tried to retain his cheery appearance.  
  
"Why would you say that?" she asked. "Noir is as common as the next name. But if you must know we are related."  
  
"And how would that be?" Mirielle smiled sweetly. "Just out of curiosity."  
  
Christine smirked, "I know where you are going with this, I am sorry Mademoiselle and M'sieur, but I cannot divulge that information for it is much too much to tell," she looked down at her watch, "Look at that, I really must be going. Au revoir," she smiled getting up from the table and leaving to two twins to confusedly sit in their own thoughts.  
  
Jessamine smirked as she saw the piece of paper sticking out of Aidan's back pocket. She laid down her pad and pencil and tip-toed over to him. Krissy raised her eyebrow at Jessamine and shook her head.  
  
Jessamine slipped the paper out of his pocket and stuffed in hers quickly without him noticing. She scurried back over to her pad and acted as though nothing was wrong. Aidan then made his way to the opposite end of the stage and Jessamine quickly unfolded the paper and looked at it.  
  
It was her poem. She smiled as she smoothed out the folds and then looked further down on the paper was written something else. The handwriting was smooth and flowing. Jessamine's eyes ran over the script before murmuring it to herself, "The Star," she raised her brow.  
  
The moment of truth The moon fades The sun rises A distant star twinkles  
  
He reaches for the star It's just out of reach Then he realizes The star is there to see To admire, But not to touch  
  
He turns away The sun is high He looks back The star is gone  
  
He curses himself For not moving fast enough  
  
Then, the sun sets The star returns And he smiles He reaches again And finally reaches it Holding it forever.  
  
Jessamine looked at the paper and tilted her head. She had taken several poetry analysis classes and could only figure out that the person in the poem was striving towards a certain goal but kept missing until finally he reaches it.  
  
Krissy walked up behind her and put her hand on her shoulder and smirked, "What are you reading Jess? You look like a big mouth bass."  
  
Jessamine spun around and quickly tried to stuff the paper in the back of notebook, but Krissy was too fast and grabbed it out of her hand. She skimmed it and then handed it back to her smiling. "Here you go Jess, have fun reading your love poems later, we have work to do now."  
  
She looked up to Krissy and gave her a confused look. Shrugging her shoulders she got up and followed her to the stage after gently laying the notebook on the pile of mats.  
  
As Jessamine walked onto the stage Aidan walked over to the notebook and paged through it, reading the notes and then he found the page that had previously been in his pocket. His cheeks turned bright red as he carefully refolded it and placed it in his pocket.  
  
He felt someone touch his shoulder and looked back. His little sister stood behind him. Her blue eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief, "Salut Aidan," she smirked, "What are you reading?"  
  
"Nothing," he replied, "It's just a few directions I had to study." He was trying to come up with the best cover up he could, although it wasn't as easy as he thought. The paper crumpled in his hands as he nervously fiddled with it.  
  
"Really?" Christine asked eyeing the paper in his hands. "If its nothing then can I see?" she smiled trying to grab the paper. "Come on Aidan. You said yourself it is nothing; well if it isn't anything let me see it!"  
  
"Christine Rose Noir, if you don't stop now I can tell you that you will regret having bothered me!" Aidan said through his teeth. He looked at his sister for a brief moment and as he did she grabbed it. Aidan thought for a moment and then picked her up off the ground and slung her over his back.  
  
"Aidan Byron, if you don't put me down so help me God, Papa will find out about this!" she said hitting his back. "Put me down, Aidan! Aidan!" she screeched laughing at the same time.  
  
"That's it Christine Rose, Mama is going to hear about this. And she's not going to be happy," Aidan smirked walking towards their mother's dressing room, "Mama is going to have so much fun hearing this story," he laughed as they walked down the passage way and into the house. "Oh Mama," he yelled out, "We have a little thief, and it's not Michael, or me, so it must be little Christine Rose."  
  
"Aidan!" Christine continued to scream, "Aidan put me down, put me down!"  
  
He finally set her down and smiled "When Mama gets in here you are busted."  
  
Aidan chuckled and blocked the exit so she couldn't get out. Christine glared at her brother as she formulated an escape plan. After a few minutes, the mirror began to ripple. Aidan smirked confidently while Christine paled. The reactions were reversed when James stepped through at looked at both his children.  
  
"What is going on?" James asked as he looked at his offspring.  
  
"Nothing." Aidan choked out.  
  
"Nothing?!" Christine exclaimed, "You call embarrassing me in front of the company nothing!"  
  
"Well, if you just left me alone like I asked." Aidan shot back.  
  
"Children! I still don't know what you two were doing?" James reminded them.  
  
"He was reading a poem from Jessamine." Christine piped up, "And I wanted to see it. He won't let me so I stole it. Then he picked me up like a sack of potatoes and carted me around the opera."  
  
"It wasn't Jessamine's poem." Aidan defended, "It was mine!"  
  
The room got quiet at Aidan's confession. Aidan blushed as he stared at the ground. Christine sat in shock. Since when did Aidan write poetry? Christine glanced and noticed the very amused look on her father's face.  
  
"Christine, while I must applaud your thievery skills, you really should respect your brother's wishes. Now go back to practice." James chuckled.  
  
Christine nodded and passed her brother. They glared at each other before Christine walked out. Aidan looked up and was surprised to see the amused look on his father's face.  
  
"I'm sorry, Papa." Aidan apologized.  
  
"For what? Writing poetry?" James dismissed, "I wrote a few verses in my day trying to woo your mother. You have nothing to be sorry for. Now what is really on your mind?"  
  
"I can't say. I promised someone."  
  
"You will let me know when you can." James stated, "I'm worried about you and Michael. The two of you have been at each other's throats since you returned."  
  
"I know, Papa. I guess our tempers are short since we picked up that disk. Have you sold it yet?"  
  
James nodded, "But I'm not saying. Now let's go and keep an eye on your sister. I hear Dante has been very aggressive with her lately."  
  
Aidan nodded. The two men left the dressing room. Aidan was explaining what Dante has done to Christine so far.  
  
~*~*~*~  
  
Michael walked down the dark street later that night. He was purposely avoiding his family right now. A cold breeze zipped down the street causing him to wrap his cloak tighter around him. Michael looked up and noticed that he was near the cemetery where his family lay to rest. He stood at the gate, torn whether to walk in and have a talk with Grandfather or not.  
  
Deciding that he didn't want to run into Aidan again, Michael turned and ran into a cloaked man who was going to enter. Michael muttered an apology. He couldn't see the man's face as his piercing green eyes bore a hole into Michael. Michael swallowed as he moved to the side to let the man through. The man didn't move yet.  
  
"Can I help you Monsieur?" Michael bit out, unnerved by the man.  
  
"No, it's all right. You just remind me of someone I knew once." The man's baritone voice replied smoothly.  
  
"Au revoir then," Michael stated as he went to walk away. He was brought up short by a cane.  
  
"You seem troubled, young man. Why is that?"  
  
"It's none of your business."  
  
"Maybe, but sometimes talking to a stranger can help since they can't judge you."  
  
"Fine," Michael sighed as he turned to face the man, "My brother and I are fighting. I guess I could say it's over a girl, but it isn't."  
  
"Then what is it over then?"  
  
"I guess I'm having doubts about what I'm meant to do. I never had these doubts until I meet this girl. I think I'm in love with her."  
  
"Love can be a very ugly thing."  
  
"You're telling me. In this case, we are building it up on lies. You see she is a cop and I'm a thief. If she finds out, it will be bad. I know I should walk away but I can't. I die a little each time I lie to her yet, everything about her totally fascinates me."  
  
"I was once like that, young man. I met a girl but figured she couldn't love me, so I told her lies about myself. I spun this huge mystery around me. Finally, she discovered the truth and was very upset with me. So upset that she married another man. It broke my heart to let her go, but that man made her happy. He was honest with her. I tried to be upset but I couldn't since I had lied to her from the first moment we meet." The man explained to Michael who listened to him with great interest, "Eventually, he died and she returned to me with our son. It wasn't a joyous reunion by any means. It took our son's life being in danger for us to put aside our differences. It was then that we fell really in love with each other."  
  
"But I can't come clean with her. My whole family will be in danger."  
  
"It's hard to just come clean, my boy. You are faced with a very hard decision."  
  
"It is. I don't know what to do."  
  
"Here is my advice. Make peace with those you need to. And when you see the girl again, avoid telling her lies. See if she can handle the truth. If she can't, pull away. However if she can, then maybe you still have a chance."  
  
"I'll try it. Merci, Monsieur."  
  
"My pleasure."  
  
On the wind Michael hear an enchanting voice call out the name Erik. The man's eyes glowed with joy and love as he turned to the dark cemetery. Michael didn't want to leave the man's company just yet. The man seemed to know.  
  
"My wife is calling to me." The man sighed, "Don't worry young man. Everything will be fine."  
  
Michael nodded. The man turned walked in the cemetery. Michael watched him go. He didn't hear someone call his name until Aidan punched his shoulder. Michael looked to Aidan briefly.  
  
"Mama sent me to find you. Krissy is altering our costumes." Aidan gruffed. Michael didn't answer as he looked back to where the man was. Only he wasn't there any more. Michael frowned as he turned back to Aidan. The man's words rung in his head.  
  
"I'm sorry, Aidan." Michael stated softly.  
  
Whatever Aidan was expecting it wasn't an apology. He looked at Michael in shock, "I beg your pardon."  
  
"I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. You were just trying to stop me from making the same mistakes as you did." Michael repeated, "I guess I'm not thinking to clearly."  
  
"Too right you are not. But I guess when I was in your position I was the same way, so I forgive you." Aidan sighed letting go of the last of his anger.  
  
"Brothers?" Michael smiled hopefully.  
  
"Brothers." Aidan nodded as they hugged, "I just hope Papa never finds out."  
  
"I guess I better stick close to Mama for a while huh?"  
  
"Damn straight. I guess we have to make amends with Christine. I should be upset with her. She has an interest in your girlfriend's brother."  
  
"Excuse me, she likes John?!" Michael exclaimed, and then grinned evilly, "Should we be perfect brothers and stand aside or have fun with this?"  
  
Aidan snorted, "Isn't the answer obvious? We are going to have fun with it. I think our sweet little sister makes him nervous, since he runs from her company. From I've seen he is interested in her, just isn't sure how to handle it."  
  
Michael's grin spread. Aidan was reminded of a portrait he had seen in the Music room. It was one with the original Phantom sitting at the piano smiling in his usual devious way. Michael looked like the spitting image of that painting just there was no mask on his face.  
  
"You look like the original Phantom when you grin like that." Aidan observed.  
  
"That's why Mama likes me best." Michael teased.  
  
"Dream on. Let's go home."  
  
The two brothers headed home. Taunting and teasing each other, as they went. Michael glanced back hoping to see the man again. The street was deserted except for the two brothers.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Mirielle woke up at six in the morning and looked over at her brother in the bed across the room. He made her so mad, but she couldn't help but care for him. She threw on some clothes and sneaked out of the room. She quickly made her way to 14 Rouier Avenue.  
  
She knocked on the door and waited for an answer, "Hello Uncle Etienne," she smiled as he answered the door in his robe with a coffee cup in his hand. Ushering her in he grabbed her a cup of coffee and sat down across from her.  
  
"What's on your mind Tic?" he smiled leaning back, "and where's Tac?"  
  
Mirielle sighed and began, "There are a lot of things on my mind Uncle Etienne. First and foremost is the idea that maybe I should work in Paris. I think that I need to get away from Mum and Dad and make my own name, to be my own person. Instead of being the daughter of the Great Detective, I can be The Great detective. I want the freedom to make my own name, and I think that I could do it in Paris."  
  
Leroux looked at his grandniece and took a deep breath. He pondered for a minute and then tried to answer the best he could, "Have you talked to your parents about this?" She shook her head and he went on, "Well Mirielle, you have to remember you have to start over here, you'll be the equivalent of a constable when you start. But, if you feel that strongly about it then I will put in a good word for you. I've heard your mother tell stories of your heists, however restless they may be you're a good officer."  
  
"Thank you Uncle Etienne," Mirielle blushed at the sudden compliment. "I really do think it's for the better. I can't live underneath them anymore. I need change, I need Paris." Etienne smiled at her and nodded. "Besides there's more here, not just work wise either, there's culture, food, and-" she trailed off.  
  
Leroux nodded and realized what she was getting at, "I'll call your mother and father and tell them. I know it would be hard enough for me to explain to my parents so I'll do it for you. However, I don't know if they'll decide to call you and pepper you with questions. Otherwise, you'll be on the force faster than you can say J'aime beaucoup Oncle Etienne," they both laughed and Mirielle started to get up.  
  
"Merci beaucoup," Mirielle said as she neared the door, "You're an angel Uncle Etienne," she kissed him on the cheek and exited the small home. "I'll see you at the masquerade right?" she asked before climbing into the cruiser.  
  
"Of course," he smiled, "Au revoir," he waved from his front steps as she drove away. "Mirielle is in love, but with whom?" he asked himself smiling. Shrugging he walked back into his house grabbing another cup of coffee.  
  
She quickly reentered the hotel room. Looking at the clock only forty-five minutes had passed and her brother was still asleep. She walked over to a chair and sat down waiting for John to get up. After ten minutes he finally stirred.  
  
John sat up and yawned. Rubbing his eyes he looked to his sister, "What are you doing up already?" he asked groggily.  
  
She shrugged, "Couldn't sleep." He nodded and got out of the bed. "I think we should do a little bit more investigation before the masquerade tonight," she added as he walked to the bathroom.  
  
After he got dressed they left for the Opera House. Mirielle smiled to herself as she recalled the previous evening. 'It was so perfect,' she thought, 'that's something I could get used to if I work in Paris.' They pushed the doors open and stepped in. The light was dimmer and softer, unlike the fresh sunlight outside.  
  
People scurried to and fro around the lobby getting things ready. John sneered, 'How am I supposed to get any work done with these people underfoot?' he asked himself. Peering around he decided to go backstage today, "Mir, you stay out in the auditorium and in the lobby, I'll go backstage," he said already making his way back.  
  
Mirielle looked at her brother and then started her own investigation. John was on the stage when Dante shoved into him, "Watch it," Dante growled. John raised an eyebrow but minded his own business. As Dante passed John noticed a glint of silver, he decided to follow him. Quietly in the shadows John watched Dante make his way towards the dressing rooms.  
  
Their footsteps in perfect rhythm, when Dante stopped, John stopped, when Dante sped up, John sped up. Tap, tap, tap, tap, went their footsteps as they walked along. Dante rapped on a door and someone opened, although John couldn't distinguish who it was. The shadow in the room handed Dante an envelope while Dante handed the figure a silver key. John wished he could investigate further but stayed his distance, not wanting to aggravate the obviously agitated Dante more than he already was.  
  
John crept back to the stage while Mirielle was in the lobby. She walked up the grand staircase and looked down onto the lobby. She smiled as she looked over the entire lobby. She saw Akeem walking towards her and smiled, "Bonjour Akeem."  
  
"Bonjour Mirielle, did you enjoy the opera the other night?" he asked leaning against the railing of the staircase.  
  
"It was nice," she smiled and nodded, "It was really nice and Madame Noir was excellent." Mirielle grinned happily joining Akeem by leaning on the rail next to him.  
  
"I've known the Noir's most my life," Akeem said, "Our families have known each other for years. Our ties are very close," Akeem smiled to the obviously love struck girl and then frowned, "However no one is what they appear to be Mademoiselle Mirielle, watch out, you don't want to get hurt."  
  
"What do you mean?" she asked suddenly, "Michael is everything I thought he was from the beginning."  
  
Akeem wanted to tell her the truth but couldn't betray his friend. "I just don't want you to have the same problem as an old friend of mine," although he hardly knew Cosette he just referred to her as one for the purpose. "She was distraught and a mess for weeks, I don't want the same to happen to you."  
  
Mirielle looked at Akeem in confusion. She didn't know what he was getting at but decided to go along with it, "Well Akeem, I am sure I won't get hurt. Michael wouldn't do that, would he?" she suddenly turned very nervous.  
  
"You can never be sure of anything Mademoiselle, nothing is ever certain," Akeem replied cryptically. "I just advise you, to be careful. I know you don't want to think the worst, but you have to be able to love and let go Mirielle, remember that." He pushed off of the rail and started down the stairs. "Remember that Mirielle, it could save you a lot of pain."  
  
Akeem grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the middle of the stairs, just as Krissy and Buquet came running down them. The two of them were cursing at each other in French as they ran by. Mirielle blinked at such language that early in the morning while Akeem just smiled. Akeem turned to Mirielle and the two began to laugh.  
  
Mirielle smiled at Akeem as they walked. She found Akeem to be a good listener as they lazily questioned each other. They two were engrossed in their conversation that neither saw Dante stalking towards them. Before anyone realized what had happened, Dante and Mirielle had crashed into each other.  
  
"Watch where you are going!" Dante snapped, then smiled when he saw who it was, "Ah, my angel. I'm sorry for my manners."  
  
Mirielle rolled her eyes at the dramatics, "Don't give me that, Monsieur."  
  
"I must make it up to you." Dante oozed much to Mirielle's obvious disgust and Akeem's concern.  
  
"No. I'm still busy with my investigation." Mirielle excused stiffly.  
  
"At least allow me to escort you to the Masquerade tonight." Dante insisted as he moved closer to her.  
  
Mirielle took a step away and put up a hand to ward off her pursuer, "I don't think so. I already have an escort."  
  
Dante snagged her hand and kissed it, "Then I'll be your secret rendezvous."  
  
Mirielle tried to yank her hand back, but Dante held on tight. Mirielle glanced up and sneered at the leer in his eyes. Quietly she began to struggle to get her hand back. Dante held on tight. A playful smile curled at the corners of his mouth.  
  
"Let go of me!" Mirielle growled as she tried in vain to free her hand.  
  
"No, mademoiselle, not until you promise me a kiss tonight." Dante grinned eagerly.  
  
Mirielle was about to refuse when the blade of a sword appeared under Dante's jaws. Mirielle turned to see a furious Erika holding the hilt of the sword. Her blue eyes flashed with outrage. Dante seemed to be paler.  
  
"Let the lady go." Erika stated softly yet firmly.  
  
Dante dropped his hold on Mirielle. Mirielle rubbed her wrists and she glared at Dante. Erika walked around until she stood by Mirielle's side. Mirielle looked at the aging prima donna with surprise. Erika motioned with her sword that Dante needed to move and quick or Buquet was going to have a large mess to clean up. Mirielle smirked as Dante ran off.  
  
"I hope you have permission to carry that thing." Mirielle remarked.  
  
Erika smiled as she sheathed the sword and handed it to Akeem, "It's a prop from Buquet's table."  
  
"You got away with touching that crazy old man's table?" Mirielle said amazed.  
  
"I grew up knowing Buquet. I was his favorite 'niece' and can do no wrong." Erika grinned at the memory of all the trouble they got into then sobered up, "You need to be careful who you give the time of day around here."  
  
"I didn't ask for him to touch me. Great, now I have to disinfect myself from his germs." Mirielle moaned.  
  
"A nice long soak will help with that. Now, Mademoiselle Holmes or should I call you Watson." Erika teased.  
  
Mirielle blushed, "I didn't ask Michael to lie to your husband."  
  
"I just found it to be an interesting choice of names." Erika grinned, "You will be at the masquerade tonight?"  
  
"I was planning on it. Christine Noir helped us pick out costumes."  
  
"I'm glad. Are you any closer to having your answers?"  
  
"No. No one wants to give me a straight answer around here."  
  
"They don't need to. You have all the clues you need. Just put them together, my child. You can do it. I know you can, after all you are the result of two of the greatest minds that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Some day you will stand on your own." Erika informed her.  
  
Mirielle blushed and looked away. She turned to say something only to find that Erika was gone. Mirielle looked around only to find no sign of her presence. Mirielle sighed, how the hell does she do it? 


	7. Chapter 7

A: *walks out with headphones on singing (out of tune)* Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men! It is the music of the people who will not be slaves again! *Myshawolf clamps her hand over her mouth and shuts off the walkman* T_T Sorry everybody... Just saw Les Mis! ^-^  
  
MW: *rolls eyes* Angelina *shakes head and then smirks and grabs the CD player* If you don't review the Les Mis CD gets it! *hooks it into a machine which is situated over a pit of water*  
  
A: *screams falling to her knees* Nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!  
  
MW: *grins* On with the show!  
  
Wandering Children  
  
Chapter 7- Paper faces on parade  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Michael quickly tugged on his costume. He couldn't believe he let Christine pick out his costume for tonight. As he pulled on the last sandal, he figured it could have been worse. At least Apollo was a guy. Last year, she made Aidan go as Athena, the goddess of War. Michael supposed it was his turn as a piece of Greek Mythology.  
  
Michael was just putting on the wreath of Laurel leaves around his head when Christine walked in. Her costume was very colorful and she jingled as she walked from the jewelry on her body. Michael smiled as she handed him his violin.  
  
"Is this in place of a lyre, fair gypsy?" Michael asked.  
  
"Maybe." Christine giggled, "Mama wants us to play tonight."  
  
Aidan walked in as well, adjusting his gladiator armor, "I see this Harpy has struck again."  
  
"Yes, it's my turn this year." Michael nodded.  
  
"Well I can't have two Gods running around or I may have another Trojan war." Christine replied with a smile, "Now let's go and have some fun tonight."  
  
"Mama and Papa are awaiting us upstairs." Aidan smiled offering his arm to Christine.  
  
Christine giggled as she accepted. Michael offered his as well. Arm in arm the three siblings' heads to the stage above to enjoy the greatest party ever thrown in the history of Paris.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Erika stood in the shadows with her husband. Absently she straightened his costume a little. James smiled down at his beautiful wife. He was so lucky to have her. Gently he touched her cheek and leaned down to steal a kiss.  
  
"Well, it looks like I found two royal lovers." Danesh chuckled as he and Nadir walked up.  
  
James looked up at the two. Danesh was dressed as The Egyptian god, Osiris, before he was betrayed by his brother. Nadir looked disgruntled as Isis. James had to do a double take before he started laughing. Nadir blushed a crimson color as he muttered in Arabic.  
  
"What bet did you lose this time?" Erika asked while trying to stifle a laugh.  
  
Nadir just glared at his other half. Danesh sighed, "He made a bet with me about how busy the restaurant would be today. The prize was the winner could pick the other's costumes for tonight. He told me we wouldn't be that busy. We were absolutely packed."  
  
James smiled after gaining some control over his laughing fit, "Don't you know by now, my friend, never ever bet with your better half."  
  
This earned a laugh from everyone present. The laughter quieted down when the company began to assemble in the main lobby for the Presentation of Costumes. Erika smiled as she watched Holmes' kids show up with Leroux leading them. She spotted her own kin making their own entrance.  
  
Michael scanned the crowd looking for Mirielle. Sure, he swore to back off, but somehow he refuse to waste the magic of the masquerade night by avoiding her. His face lit up when he saw her. He admired as she uncertainly scanned the crowd for someone. The lilies were scattered through her beautiful sable hair. Her dress of blue and silver gave her this surreal look. Michael felt his throat go dry at the sight of her.  
  
Christine was chatting with Jessamine when she noticed where Michael was headed. A smile touched her lips. Good for him, Christine thought as she flicked her long black hair back. She turned back to see Aidan had stolen away her current talking partner. A pout swept across Christine's face until she felt someone at her back. Turning, she smiled at Sir John the Knight.  
  
"Bon soir, Mademoiselle Noir." John smiled charmingly.  
  
"Monsieur Holmes, are you going to run from me this time?" Christine asked.  
  
"I'll try not to. May I have this dance?"  
  
Christine considered him this time. One dance couldn't hurt. Showing her consent, she placed her hand in his. John lead her to the make shift dance floor. Together the move with such grace that John wasn't sure what to make of it. Christine only smiled softy as they glided across the dance floor.  
  
Mirielle looked around for Michael. She wasn't sure what he was wearing except Christine joked that their costumes complimented each other. Mirielle gaped as Michael walked toward her in a tunic/ toga that resembled something from Ancient Greece. A silver mask covered his face. However she could still see his long black hair and beautiful green eyes. He bowed low in front of her.  
  
"Lady Daphne, I'm surprised to see you here instead of the woods you love so much." Michael greeted.  
  
Mirielle caught on to what he was saying and immediately knew who he was dressed, "Lord Apollo, What is the point of running through the woods if you are not chasing me."  
  
Michael smiled as she played along with him, "Now that we are here, shall we dance?"  
  
"Of course." Mirielle giggled as he led her to the dance floor.  
  
Michael pulled her closer to him and smiled at how well she fit. Placing one hand on her back, he gripped her hand gently with the other one. Slowly and deliberately, they moved across the floor. They stared at each other as they move, unaware of the world around them.  
  
High above, James smiled as he watched his sons dance with their beautiful ladies. He placed a loving arm around Erika. Erika smiled as Leroux approached them. For his old age, His steps were quick and light. He was busy arguing with Fenwick when they came up. James rolled his eyes. Those two were al ways fighting about something.  
  
"Etienne," Erika smiled stopping the arguing, "How wonderful of you to come."  
  
Leroux smiled widely, "I refuse to miss the biggest party in Paris. Just keep Nadir sober. That is Nadir there in the dress?"  
  
Danesh and James chuckled softly as the head of security glared at everyone. Nadir grumbled to himself about a stupid boyfriend and ways to get back at him. Danesh smiled at Leroux, "He lost a bet to me. Besides Inspector you have to admit it was funny when he hit on you."  
  
"Now I know why I had such a hard time finding a girlfriend when I was younger." Leroux groaned.  
  
"Did you come alone then?" James asked.  
  
"Oh no, my little Beth's kids brought me. In fact Mirielle is dancing with Michael right now. Apparently they are here on business but you can't prove it by me."  
  
Erika felt James stiffen as he recognized the girl that Michael was dancing with. Erika looked at her husband with worry in her eyes. Fenwick also noticed the change and stepped forward as well. James went to rush down stairs only to find his way blocked by Erika who stood on the edge of the first step.  
  
"Don't you dare, James Moriarty," Erika warned softly.  
  
"Out of my way, Erika. He is getting a thrashing." James growled.  
  
"And what will that prove?" Erika growled back at him, "I'll tell you, absolutely nothing. He'll still love her."  
  
"He is putting everyone in danger."  
  
"I think he knows that and is trying to back away."  
  
"That's not backing away."  
  
"Did you easily walk away from me when you should have?" Erika asked softly. When James didn't answer she continued, "You couldn't just as he can't. Let him find his way, James."  
  
"Fine, but I'm still yelling at him."  
  
Erika kissed James softly, "After the party. Let them have tonight. It may be all they get."  
  
"After the party. I'm going to have a talk with Aidan too. I'm sure the scoundrel knew all about this little mess."  
  
"I'm sure he did too as well as did Christine." Erika chuckled softly, "We'll have a family meeting in the morning. Tonight let them live out their fantasies."  
  
"I will do as my queen commands." James sighed before her snatched her off the step and spun her around.  
  
Krissy appeared at the bottom of the flight and yelled, "Are you guys going to act mysterious all night or are you going come down and mingle? Some of us actually would like to meet the whole company."  
  
Erika smiled at her husband, "Our adoring masses a wait."  
  
"We should make them wait a little bit longer." James smirked evilly.  
  
Erika returned it as she led him down, "One dance, my love. Then we can go back to being aloof and mysterious."  
  
Michael gulped when he saw his father and mother come down at Krissy's urging. He was going to strangle that wolf. Urgently, he moved Mirielle and himself off the dance floor. Mirielle gave him a confused look. Michael smiled at her.  
  
"I want to show you the whole lobby." Michael remarked lamely.  
  
"Okay." Mirielle shrugged as she felt Michael slip an arm around her waist.  
  
They walked away from the crowd area. Dante watched them leave. He decided quickly follow the two. Dante disappeared after them. Michael led Mirielle around the back way to the stage area. He knew he had to tell her the truth soon but he wasn't sure if he could. Somehow he wanted it to be easier on her.  
  
"Mirielle," Michael began, "I want to talk with you about some things."  
  
"Yes, Michael?"  
  
"I'm not all that I seem to be. I have some things that I'm keeping from you and it's not fair because I can't tell you. Too many people would be put in danger."  
  
"What are you trying to say, Michael? That you want to stop seeing me?"  
  
"I don't know what I'm trying to say." Michael groaned, "All I know is that by being with you everyone that I love is in danger. But I can't walk away from you."  
  
"Michael, I think I feel the same way. Ever since we met, I've doubted everything around me. As an inspector of the law, I can't get emotional involved in a case, yet I have with you."  
  
"So we are at an impasse." Michael sighed.  
  
"No we are not. We just need to go our separate ways until things die down and I solve my case."  
  
"Do you think it will be that easy, Mirielle?" Michael shouted as he pulled her closer, shocking her, "You fire my blood. I can't walk away from that. Do I fire yours?"  
  
Mirielle wasn't sure how to answer that. She stared at Michael's eyes and saw a flicker of desire in his eyes. She did that to him. Deep down inside, she knew he did the same to her. She nearly jumped when Michael's lips covered hers. The kiss was passionate yet tender at the same time.  
  
Finally, Mirielle pulled away. Her heart was racing as she gazed at Michael. They stared at each other. Michael's eyes flared with an inner fire. Mirielle wasn't sure how to react to that. Instead she backed away from him.  
  
Michael watched her run from him with a heavy heart. He moved too quickly for her and consequently scared her away. Feeling defeated, he moved to sit on a stack of boxes. Why on earth did he just do that?  
  
"Sometimes we need to just follow our hearts." A familiar baritone voice spoke up.  
  
Michael looked up to see the man from the cemetery walk out. His face was still hidden by a black muffler. A long black cloak flowed around him. Underneath was an evening suit that looked like what Michael had in his closet. Michael tried to smile at the man.  
  
"Are you enjoying the party, monsieur?" Michael asked weakly.  
  
"Indeed. The Masquerade was always my favorite time of the year. One of the few times I could step out and not be feared." The man chuckled as he sat next to Michael.  
  
Michael nodded, "I guess it's an odd time of year."  
  
"Would you like to talk about what happen between you and the young lady?" The man asked gently.  
  
"I wish I knew."  
  
"Then start with what you do know."  
  
"Same as I told you before except I'm sure that I love her. I tried to tell her the truth. However I chickened out."  
  
"Braver men than you have been scared by a pair of pretty eyes. You'll find the words to tell her the truth. I think she'll surprise you."  
  
"I guess"  
  
Shouting was heard off stage. Michael's heart froze as he heard Mirielle's voice shouting at someone to leave her alone. Fury built inside Michael as he moved to go help her. The man stopped him.  
  
"You are hardily intimidating in that get up." The man observed as he took off his cloak, "Take this."  
  
An idea flashed through Michael's head as he took the cloak, "Merci. I'll return back to you."  
  
"Never mind. Hurry before that scum hurts her."  
  
Michael ran off the stage. The man watched him go with pride in his eyes. Michael spotted Mirielle giving Dante hell as she tried to get away. Michael ducked into the dressing room that Dante was pulling her towards. As he looked around, he smiled as he recognized his mother's room and quickly set to work.  
  
Dante was going to open this wench's eyes to the truth about the Noirs. He smiled as he spotted the slightly opened door to Erika's dressing room. Ignoring the fighting girl he held, he pulled her to the room.  
  
Only to be brought up short by the point of a sword held by the Phantom. Mirielle froze as she stared as a pair of bright green eyes hidden by a white mask. This wasn't the Phantom she met. That one had blue eyes. What was going on here?  
  
The Phantom smiled at the two intruders. He took a step forward causing them to step back. Dante's eyes went wide. He wasn't sure what to do since he didn't plan for this. After all Erika was still with her husband back at the party.  
  
"Hello, de Chagny. Taking after your father by kidnapping unwilling young ladies?" The Phantom spat at Dante.  
  
Dante glared at the Phantom, "She needs to be shown the truth."  
  
"Not by the likes of you. Now let her go!"  
  
Dante glared at The Phantom as he let go of Mirielle go. Mirielle shot Dante a killer look. She stepped away from the men. Dante and The Phantom continued to glare at each other. Finally the Phantom lowered his sword and motioned that Dante should leave. Dante ran away angry that he lost this fight.  
  
The Phantom turned Mirielle. They stared at each other. Mirielle looked him over carefully.  
  
"You aren't the real one are you?" She asked after a few moments.  
  
"No I'm not. I'm just filling in. That's not all you need to say, is it?"  
  
"No. We meet before in New London, haven't we?"  
  
Michael's heart broke a little but he decided to come clean this way, "Yes we have."  
  
"By Downing Street."  
  
"Oui, you are as smart as Michael tells me."  
  
"You know Michael?"  
  
"He is a very dear friend. You have turned his world around, chère. He never doubted his beliefs until you."  
  
"Should I be flattered?"  
  
"No, just aware. He cares for you greatly and doesn't want to hurt you. I hope you won't hurt him."  
  
"I'll try not to. I'm afraid I have to arrest you."  
  
The Phantom smirked as smoke filled the room, "Catch me if you can. I won't be in this costume again."  
  
Mirielle covered her mouth with her hand and charged into the smoke only to find the man gone. Confused, she staggered out of the cloudy dressing room and into the clearer back stage area. Mirielle felt a pair of strong arms around her waist. She looked up into Michael's relieved face. They smiled at each other and Michael led her back to the party.  
  
~*~*~*~*~  
  
Jessamine stood to the side adjusting her old fashioned news boy's hat. She smiled as it flopped over the front of her face and she had to flip it back. Aidan spied her fooling around with the hat and thought this would be the perfect time for her first lesson. He casually made his way over and leaned against the wall, "Jess, go over to Dante and steal his wallet, look it's sticking out of his pocket. I'll give you half the money in there if you do it successfully."  
  
Smirking she made her way to the center of the dance floor. Dante was having a good time with some dancer when she tried to grab for the wallet. She missed and grabbed a string from his costume and ripped it off. As the final stitch came undone his costume fell apart. Jessamine's eyes went wide as she clutched the string; Dante turned around and saw her run towards Aidan, the string traveling behind her.  
  
"He saw me!" she whispered going to hide behind his back.  
  
Aidan turned around and asked, "Saw you what?" Just as he finished that sentence Dante was coming towards them. "Just stay behind me," he whispered to her, turning around the face the angered Dante.  
  
"Move it Spartacus!" Dante spat. "You can't protect her forever, you have to sleep sometime. Now move so I could deal with the little book rat. She's not worth protecting anyway, she's a thief and a failed writer, what use is she to anyone, besides maybe a plaything. "  
  
"I dared her to do it Dante, you're fight is with me, not her!" Aidan blurted out, his eyes narrowing, turning red with rage. He clenched his fists and tensed up, but tried to ignore the feeling of wanting him dead. "Now leave her alone! She's not a failed writer mind you, and she is of plenty of use, unlike you, you vile, disgusting creature!" Jessamine stood behind him to the side to see Dante's brown eyes go black and his lip curling. .  
  
Christine and John walked up to them and looked onto the stare down. After two minutes of gut wrenching silence Christine finally blurted out, "Aidan, hit the damn fool!" and his fist flew, hitting Dante in the jaw. Dante punched back, knocking him back a little, causing Jessamine to have to jump off to side. "Come on Aidan! Give it to him!" Christine cheered. Jessamine looked at Christine in confusion and then joined in the cheering.  
  
Michael heard this from the other side of the room and had to see what was going on. He gently took Mirielle's wrist and took her over, Akeem following behind. When he saw his brother and Dante in a fist fight he couldn't help but smile and then get involved. Walking into the center of the ring of people watching Michael grabbed Dante and put his arm under his chin in the crook of his neck and held his other arm behind his back, "Come on Aidan, a few good punches then he's broke," he said smirking, while trying to keep Dante still.  
  
Aidan punched him twice in the nose, blood now dripping from it. He looked up and then took his free foot and tripped Michael by swiftly knocking it into his ankle. Michael's grip loosened and Dante turned around punching him in the eye. Mirielle gasped but stayed put, she did not want to get into any more confrontations with Dante.  
  
From the shadows a figure chuckled. His black eyes twinkled with amusement at the antics of the young people. Wiping a piece of dirty blonde hair from his forehead he lifted his mask slightly to get a little more air. Settling it down again he saw two people approaching the group and walked away into the backstage area.  
  
"What do you three think you're doing?" Krissy yelled as she approached them. "Put him down Aidan, Michael don't you dare punch him and My God Dante, do you ever stay out of trouble?"  
  
The boys grumbled and then looked up, Dante had a bloody nose and several bruises, Aidan a bleeding lip, and Michael had a cut eyebrow and a shiner. "It's my fault," Jessamine stepped forward. Krissy looked at her, 'What is she talking about?' ran through her head. "I tried to pickpocket Dante, his costume fell apart and Aidan was only helping me out by not letting the royal toad hurt me."  
  
Dante glared at her and Buquet sighed, "Princess, you know you shouldn't do things like that. Now as for you Dante, go put some pants on. Aidan, Michael, your parents are going to hear about this." Michael and Aidan both winced.  
  
Nadir, Erika, and James all watched from the other side of the hall, "Where do those traits come from, exactly?" Nadir asked as he saw the first punch sail through the air.  
  
"Their father," Erika pointed out watching Christine and Jessamine cheer them on.  
  
"I do recall someone playing mind games with a certain lunatic," James smirked.  
  
"So you're defending him now?" Erika asked caustically, but with a slight smirk.  
  
"I'm glad my life is restricted to the Opera House," Nadir sighed as he watched the fight progress down below.  
  
"Not that he didn't deserve it, but I remember a certain someone saving another certain someone from an ionizer shot," James added looking at his wife, the queen of the masquerade.  
  
"And that certain someone had to go legit to do so," Erika smiled, finally besting her husband. Her blue eyes were twinkling with mischief as he looked at her half sour and half amused.  
  
"Now I'm really glad I'm stuck here," Nadir sighed. "Oh, it looks as though we have incoming company," he smiled as his nephew walked up to the group.  
  
"Well, we have a bloody lip, a cut on an eyebrow and a black eye," he reported. "Also, the annual humiliation of a De Chagny has commenced, thanks to the pick pocket this year."  
  
"That's it? Well the boys have certainly toned down the injuries," Erika smiled looking towards the boys who looked as though they were boasting about their big fight while Christine, Mirielle, and Jessamine were chatting in their own little circle.  
  
"What exactly happened?" Nadir inquired, although he really wasn't sure if he wanted to know or not.  
  
"Well," Akeem began, "from what I have come to understand Aidan dared Jessamine to steal Dante's wallet and she missed grabbing a string from his costume instead. Then, his pants fell apart and he saw the pick pocket run to Aidan so he followed her. Aidan protected the thief and Christine told Aidan to punch Dante, so he did. Then Michael came over and joined in. Then, thank Allah, Krissy and Buquet came over and broke it up."  
  
Erika and James looked at each other and Erika sighed, "Michael would join in anything if his brother is mixed up in it."  
  
"It looks as though one of the saviors from the fight is coming our way," Nadir pointed out as Krissy walked towards them.  
  
"Your daughter is an instigator," Krissy sighed. "The boys aren't very banged up, but if I let it go any longer De Chagny would be dead and your boys would be celebrating more so than they are now."  
  
James looked at Krissy, "My Christine? An Instigator? Never," he said in a slight state of shock.  
  
"Yes, your Christine egged on your son, and I quote, by saying, 'Aidan, hit the damn fool.' However, he did deserve it, no matter if Jessamine was going to steal or not."  
  
James sneered, "I hate that boy. It's very disappointing what French nobility has come to."  
  
"He's a noble pain in the ass," Nadir growled slightly.  
  
Krissy looked at him, "What did I tell you about repeating yourself Nadir?" she asked agitatedly. "I believe I told you not to do it anymore!"  
  
Erika chuckled and Nadir shrugged it off, "Well you should go tell the boys to fix themselves up and I'm going to have a talk with them," Erika said turning to Akeem. "I'll be down there in about ten minutes, and tell the girls to remain there as well, or at least Jessamine and Christine."  
  
"Yes Madame," Akeem bowed slightly and walked over to the opposite end of the hall, "Aidan, Michael, your mother said for me to tell you to clean yourselves up and she wants to speak with all of you, including Christine and Jessamine."  
  
Michael and Aidan winced at the same time. Finally, Aidan wiped some blood from his lip and said, "Well Michael, if we die tonight I can honestly say I did something I would die for," he joked.  
  
"If I wasn't such a bad pick pocket you two wouldn't have gotten to beat the snot out of him," Jessamine smirked holding up the string that caused the public humiliation of Dante.  
  
"And we are eternally grateful for it Mademoiselle," Michael said kissing her hand just to see what his brother would do. Jessamine laughed while Aidan raised an eyebrow at him, glaring weakly.  
  
"Well, Jess, you did do us that favor, but you still didn't get the wallet. I can't always be there to bail you out if you get caught you know," he said coldly. Jessamine's happy demeanor grew dim, and she nodded solemnly.  
  
"Well, I better um... go get some ice or something," she made an excuse for herself to get away. "I'll be back in a moment," her voice had a stony and faraway quality to it. Then, she walked away and towards the bathroom.  
  
Christine looked at her oldest brother in disgust, "Good going Romeo!" she cuffed him on the back of the head, "You know just because Cosette hurt you doesn't mean you have the right to hurt others! Now you better apologize before the night is over or else I'll tell Papa and he'll have to have a few words with you about being a gentleman!"  
  
Michael was also shocked at his brother's icy words. He didn't say anything as he saw Jessamine wipe her cheek, but he did hope his brother would apologize to her. John then looked at Christine, her face was red with anger at her brother, "Now I'm going to get some bandages, you two stay right here," she said in a firm voice.  
  
"I'll come with you," John suddenly said, 'Where did that come from?' he asked himself. "I mean, if you don't mind, that is."  
  
Christine smiled at his unease. "Of course you can," she grinned. "Let's go," she said walking towards the auditorium. John followed closely behind and as they got into the auditorium she slowed down, "That was something in there wasn't it."  
  
"It sure was something," John said unsurely. "Why do your brothers just jump into fights like that?" he decidedly asked.  
  
"Because they're boys," she laughed, "and since Aidan, my oldest brother, you know the one who dared Jessamine to steal the wallet, well he's got his own reasons. I could personally wish Dante dead and not care if he did," John looked at her in shock, "Unladylike I know," she smiled, "but you don't know what hell that boy has put me through for my entire life."  
  
"I could only imagine," he replied sympathetically, her skin glowing in the pale light. He gulped and walked along side her, admiring her conspicuously.  
  
"It sure is cold in here," murmured Christine as they neared the stage. She rubbed her arms to speed up circulation and John scooted closer to her, she looked at him confusedly as they walked only centimeters from each other.  
  
"Body heat," he replied as their skin touched. John was nervous; you could see it in his face, his eyes wide and being barely able to breathe. He fiddled with his hands as they ascended the steps to the stage and went to the dressing room corridors. His costume clinked as they walked making it the only sound besides their footsteps.  
  
Christine disappeared into one of the dressing rooms and reappeared moments later, "Got it," she smiled holding the bag up. "My mother is going to be very amused when she finds out how this entertaining stunt started."  
  
"Here, let me hold it," he said gesturing towards the bag. She shrugged and handed it to him, but as she did, his fingers graced the back of her hand. Both blushed in the dim light and John grabbed the bag.  
  
"I heard you sing once, you were very good," John said trying to break the silence.  
  
"Thank you," she beamed. "I usually practice when no one is around though, you must have been hiding."  
  
"No, just listening," he admitted, "Your voice almost trapped me. It was entrancing, amazing," he blushed, "I'm sorry, I'm going overboard."  
  
"No, no it's okay," she laughed, "I enjoy a compliment as much as the next person. Besides, it's very becoming of you John." He blushed a deep red and Christine giggled, "You're very easy to embarrass," she pointed out.  
  
John put his hand up to his burning cheek. "I guess I am," he laughed nervously. "But I think I've been a jerk," he admitted, "and I'm really sorry for it. I think I should give you something," she looked at him and tilted her head to the side. He bit his lip and then slowly leaned in and kissed her gently. "I'm sorry; I don't know what came over me."  
  
She smiled and blushed; then said, "Its okay," suddenly she felt the urge to get out of there, it was an uncomfortable situation, so she quickly sputtered, "We better get back to my brothers now, they need the bag and Aidan has some apologizing to do."  
  
"Yes, I agree," John sighed lightly. He was relieved to get out of that situation, but he now knew what it felt like to be on the receiving end of a quick getaway excuse. He sped up his pace to match hers while they headed back. Upon reentering the ballroom Christine saw Aidan, Michael, and Akeem talking, Dante back with normal clothes on, and all the adults scattered about the room. She quickened and finally got to the boys, "Here," John said holding out the bag, "You'll need this."  
  
Christine then took it from John and handed it to Michael, turning to Aidan, "I'm going to find Jessamine, the moment I do I am going to get you and you are going to apologize, do you hear me?" she asked in an annoyed tone. Aidan shook his head in agreement as she stalked off. "Frères," she murmured as she went off.  
  
After going around the whole room twice she finally decided to check the bathroom. Sniffles came from the middle stall and buckled shoes stuck out of the bottom of the door. "Jessamine, are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine," she muttered unconvincingly. "I'll be back in a few minutes."  
  
"Jessamine, I know my brother is a jerk. It's really a long story and I would tell you but we don't have time, now would you like to stand outside the door and I'll go tell him where you are? He's been looking for you," she lied. 'No, I'm improving the truth,' she told herself.  
  
Jessamine walked out of the stall, the front of her shirt was covered in tears. "I suppose I should go get a new shirt," she smiled weakly. "After all, a newsgirl can't have a tear stained shirt; it's a sign of weakness."  
  
"Come on you newsie," Christine tried to lighten the mood, "Make my brother feel bad, he deserves it." Christine led her out of the bathroom and stood her by the door on the little inlet, where it was hidden from the rest of the room, but not inside the bathroom. As she dragged her brother to the little inlet by his ear and her hand over his mouth she whispered harshly, "You moron! You made her cry! Even if you do apologize I'm still telling Papa about your behavior! It's unacceptable Aidan! Now go apologize!"  
  
Aidan rubbed his ear and then walked into the inlet. He immediately felt terrible when he saw her standing there; her nose and eyes were red while her cheeks had tear lines running down the side. She was fiddling with her hat as she looked down to the side, "Jessamine," he whispered walking towards her. She looked up and nodded to acknowledge him but didn't speak. "Jess, I'm sorry for being an ingrate."  
  
She looked at him with strong eyes. Their normally crystal blue color was cloudy and gray, "That's all you have to say?" she asked in an icy tone. "You never show any inclination of appreciation for anything M'sieur Aidan. Vous crétin imbécillité stupide je pourrais continuer cette liste mais je pas parce que c'est un gaspillage de puits de souffle quant à me je ne vous laisserai pas me blesse que toujours encore vous n'êtes pas en valeur l'ennui que vous causez monsieur je ne veux jamais vous parlor encore, " she slapped him strait across the face, the hit sounded as painful as it looked. As her hand left his face a big red hand mark was left. Her cheeks were scarlet and puffy as she took deep, agitated breaths.  
  
(A/N: That means "you stupid, imbecilic, cretin, I could continue this list but I won't because it's a waste of breath. Well as for myself I will not let you hurt me ever again! You are not worth the trouble you are causing sir. I never want to speak to you again!")  
  
Aidan took a step back away from her. Her sudden outburst shocked and slightly amused him. After recovering from her biting words and stinging slap he stepped towards her. "I'm sorry you think that way Mademoiselle." She glared at him as he continued towards her in the small space. Cornered in the small area Jessamine kept staring at him. "Je regrette beaucoup Jessamine," he said sincerely tilting her head up towards his he leaned down and gently kissed her on the lips and as he broke off the kiss he said, "Now since you never want to speak to me again, I guess I'll be off."  
  
Jessamine's eyes were wide open. As he walked away she felt her lips with her index finger, her mouth gapping. She leaned against the door, "Mon Dieu," she thought out loud, "what just happened?" She walked out of the inlet only to bump into Christine. "Sorry," she muttered still in shock.  
  
Christine steadied her out and laughed, "No problem Jess. What happened? Did my brother do something else to make you feel bad, because if he did I can talk with him," she smirked wickedly.  
  
"Oh um... nothing," she replied shaking out of it. "I guess I exploded and said some things that I really didn't mean and then I don't even know, he," she whispered very quietly and said as quickly as she could, "kissed me."  
  
Christine smirked deviously. "Don't worry Jessamine; I'll be sure to take care of it for you." Jessamine smiled gratefully and then went back into the bathroom and wiped her nose and splashed some water on her face. "Now let's go back there, my mom is going to have a talk with us." 


	8. Chapter 8

MW: (Walks out carrying the signature notebook and a bundle in her arms while Angelina is reduced to mumbling like an idiot crawling behind her pleading about something) Sorry Angelina, but if we want reviews we have to.  
  
A: (sad face) B...b...b...but! Not Sherlock Bear!  
  
MW: Yes Angelina, Sherlock Bear. puts a teddy bear dressed in an Inverness with a cape and deerstalker hat (Sherlock Bear) next to Erik Bear on the machine Review or both the bears get it!  
  
A: (curls up on the floor rocking back and forth in fetal position) Sherlock.... Erik... bear... torture....  
  
MW: If you want her back to normal you have to review (grins diabolically) On with the show!  
  
Wandering Children – Chapter 8 And The Masks Fall Off  
  
The two girls headed back over to group where Erika and James were already talking to their sons. Michael took a step back as both his parents turned to Aidan.  
  
"Aidan, what in the world is wrong with you?" James said angrily as Jessamine turned red and walked away, "We raised you better than that. You know how disrespectful and rude that was?"  
  
"Aidan, you really shouldn't let one girl jade you against all others," Erika pointed out, "I don't believe you had to right to do what you did just because of an incident that happened over a year ago."  
  
Christine turned to Michael who winced at the double team on Aidan and whispered, "He deserves it."  
  
"No one deserves this," he pointed out, motioning towards Aidan cowering under their hard gaze. "I mean one of them is bad enough, but both?"  
  
Krissy then approached the two children, "So, how's the lecture coming?" she asked smiling as she stopped walking.  
  
"As good as it can while Mama and Papa are massacring Aidan's blatant disrespect for a girl in particular," Michael muttered looking towards his parents and brother again.  
  
"Which girl?" Krissy asked as she looked on as well.  
  
"Jessamine," Michael said matter-of-factly. "She walked over there," he said pointing to a general area.  
  
"She looks mad," Krissy consented as she looked over to see her leaning against the wall.  
  
"Well, when I found her in the bathroom she was a real mess, but then I brought Aidan over to apologize he came out with a hand mark on his cheek and Jessamine was pissed. Of course Aidan needs to learn some manners anyway."  
  
"You French people act before you think," Krissy laughed, "The Brits too. But I better go have a talk with Jess, she doesn't look too happy, and we can't have an unhappy person at this Masquerade, unless it's Dante of course."  
  
She made her way over to Jessamine. "Hey there Jess, how's it going?"  
  
"Well you know, as good as it can get considering the fact I feel the need to hit myself over the head with a very heavy object of some sort," she said bitterly.  
  
"Don't let it get to you Jess," Krissy stated sympathetically. "Aidan's had a lot of problems you know, especially with girls. He's new to finding someone who he actually can like without worrying too much."  
  
"Well you know what," she spat, "He sucks at it."  
  
Krissy laughed slightly and then put her hand on her shoulder, "Listen, kid, give him time, he'll come around, I'm sure of it. Maybe if you ask him about it you'll understand."  
  
Jessamine shrugged and looked off to the side.  
  
"But right now he's in the middle of being chewed out by two disgruntled parents so I'd back off for now, maybe wait until tomorrow, after all how could he not want to talk to his star?" Krissy walked back into the large crowd and Jessamine slid down the wall and sat down on the floor, hanging her head.  
  
John and Mirielle walked into the hotel room late that evening. "That was an interesting evening," Mirielle mused pulling the lily wreath off of her head and throwing it on the bed.  
  
"By what do you mean?" John said pulling off his shoes and flexing his toes. "God my feet hurt," he sighed.  
  
"I meant that I found there are two phantoms and one of them is our criminal. And then I found out something odd and I really don't know what is going on anymore," she sighed and grabbed her PJ's, "Why am I telling you this?" she asked out loud as she closed the door to the bathroom.  
  
"Talk about trying to be a good brother," John murmured waiting to get into the bathroom. "I try to listen and be a good one, but no, it jumps up and bites me in the face."  
  
"I heard that," she yelled from the bathroom. John snickered as she walked out and he went in. Mirielle sat on the hotel bed and turned on the TV. "The news," she sighed turning it off and going under the covers.  
  
John walked out of the bathroom and rolled his eyes at his sleeping sister, "She can never just tell you what she wants to straight out." He climbed into his bed and grabbed the remote from the nightstand, he flipped on the news and settled down, "Sisters," he murmured before drifting off to sleep.  
  
When the Moriarty family reached their underground house, several things happened at once. Christine took one look at her father's face and ran for her room. When Papa was upset nothing could stop him. Erika noticed her daughter's flight and puzzled over the cause of it. She turned to see the calm fury in her husband's eyes. Erika removed her sapphire mask as she moved to watch her husband turned to her sons.  
  
"So," James started to speak catching both boys' attention, "You two have some new interests outside the criminal world."  
  
Both of the boys blushed brightly. Erika quirked an eyebrow at their behavior and her husband's questions. What was going on here? James never talked this calm when angry. Erika watched as he crossed his arms and stared at the boys.  
  
"Shall you discuss them with me since you two obviously know about each other's new distraction?" James continued on.  
  
"It's not as it seems." Aidan began.  
  
"Really? Both of you have been at each other's throats since you came home. I'm glad you put that energy into use beating up a common enemy but still it was over a girl." James shot back, "And it drew attention to you. What is the first rule of being a criminal that I taught you?"  
  
"Never draw attention to yourself." Michael whispered.  
  
"You would do well to remember that, Michael. Out of the two of you, you are playing with fire. A Yardie!" James growled as he leaned into Michael's face, "Of all the people to toy with, you pick a Yardie."  
  
Erika chuckled softly earning a glare from her husband. Erika cheekily smiled back. James turned away and glared at Michael who was squirming in his spot. Aidan seemed to give his brother an 'I told you so' look.  
  
James rounded on Aidan in a flash, "You would the last person to encourage him. Or have you forgotten about your own past with that inspector's girl."  
  
"It was nothing!" Aidan defended, "Just some stupid crush in High School."  
  
"Which almost got you arrested," James pointed out, "What an example you set! Now he is following your lead."  
  
Erika rolled her eyes. At least James wasn't yelling or he was in trouble himself. As James scolded both of them for putting themselves in danger, Erika snickered at how hypocritical he sounded. After all according to Fenwick, Moriarty had a crush on Inspector Lestrade when he began running around New London. Erika nearly choked on her laughter when James slipped up.  
  
"I don't need you, "James pointed to Michael, "Making to same mistake that I did with Inspector Lestrade."  
  
The room got deadly quiet as James just realized what he just said. Aidan and Michael perked up upon hearing that their father made the same mistakes as they did. The two exchanged an evil grin and they looked at their father.  
  
"You were in love with The Inspector Lestrade!" Aidan exclaimed.  
  
Michael blanched at the thought of that kind of match, "That's just odd."  
  
"This is great. Papa was in the same boat as us." Aidan nearly crowed as he slapped Michael on the back.  
  
Michael grinned as he realized something "Is that why you weren't so successful back then? Too busy looking over the Inspector?"  
  
"I beg your pardon?!" James bit out as his face went a bright red, "I'll have you know I was the perfect gentleman. She was the rude one."  
  
Erika was out right giggling at this point as her sons put their father on the spot. She knew she should save her husband, but she did want her sons to have a chance to tease their father. As soon as her giggles died away, Erika clapped her hands twice, getting the males' attention. By their embarrassed looks, she knew that they forgot about her. Smiling she stepped forward, looking very much like the Queen she was dressed as.  
  
"That will be quite enough for tonight." Erika told them, "We have rehearsal for the new show tomorrow and since you two are home I expect you to help with the stage crew. Now get to bed, mon chers."  
  
Erika kissed both boys on the forehead and shooed them to bed. James admired his wife in the soft candlelight. He walked towards her as she watched to be sure the boys went to bed. Gently he touched her cheek bringing Erika's eyes back to him.  
  
"You let them have a go at me." James smiled at her.  
  
Erika smiled back, "It was only fair."  
  
"Were you jealous to find out I had a crush on her?" James asked as he leaned down to kiss her.  
  
"No. Fenwick told me about it long ago. Then I felt a flicker of it, but it died when I looked into your eyes and see the love in there." Erika whispered before she touched his lips with hers.  
  
James pulled away with a smile as let his hands settle on her waist, "Siren."  
  
"And your angel. Remember that." Erika smirked as she tapped the end of his nose.  
  
In the blink of an eye, she was out of James' grip. James watched her saunter to their bedroom. When she reached the door, Erika shot him a follow me to hell look before going in. James grinned as he followed her. He was a very lucky man.  
  
Jessamine took a deep breath before opening the door. "Okay Jess," she prepped herself, "You can do this. Nothing bad is going to happen. The worst that can happen is that you will be ignored."  
  
Finally she opened the door and stepped in. She wondered if anyone was awake anyway. It was seven in the morning and people were usually asleep now the night after the masquerade.  
  
She entered the dark lobby, her eyes adjusting from the bright morning light to the darkness. She clutched her notebook to her chest at the door's dry click. She hurried around the lobby looking for a light switch but couldn't find it. Wandering around in the dark she made her way to the auditorium. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness when she felt a hand on her back. She instinctively jumped and the person covered her mouth. "Shh," it whispered and she relaxed. "What are you doing here so early?" he asked letting her go.  
  
"I should ask you the same thing," she whispered. "I needed to ask you something if that's anything. But why are we whispering?"  
  
"I don't know," he replied still whispering, "but come to the roof; it's safer to talk there." He grabbed his wrist and led her up the stairs and onto the roof of the opera. The morning sun shone a brilliant orange and the sky was light blue and bright. They both rubbed their eyes and got used to the brightness of the outside.  
  
Aidan spoke, "Now what did you need to ask me?"  
  
"I was told to ask you about a previous experience with a woman by a reliable source. I didn't know if you wanted to talk about it or not but if you would tell me I think I would understand why you act like such an âne sometimes," she smirked trying to make her comment seem less hurtful.  
  
Aidan turned around and faced his back towards her.  
  
He sighed deeply and said, "You're asking about Cosette. This is definitely something you sit down for," Aidan motioned for her to sit next to him. Jessamine cautiously sat next him. His eyes focused straight ahead as he started his story.  
  
"Well," he began, "Cosette was the daughter of a police officer. In high school we dated, she was the first girl I ever loved," he paused and took a deep breath to compose himself, "but when I started learning my father's trade she accused me of cheating on her. Well one night her accusations got me so bad that we started yelling and I finally admitted to being a criminal. She was afraid and upset and after yelling several obscenities she walked away and didn't look back."  
  
Aidan leaned his head back and closed his eyes running his hands through his hair. "Well I literally sat on the steps of Opera House waiting to be arrested, I was a mess. Well instead of getting arrested, Leroux came and told me what happened to her. It all ended up that she was the one cheating and when I confessed about being a criminal she used it as an excuse to elope with the guy she was with without getting yelled at. And well needless to say it was a crushing experience." He looked at Jessamine without a smile, "Does that answer all your questions?"  
  
Jessamine nodded and then said, "That must have been tough to tell me that. It's like picking a scab, no matter how strong you are it still hurts like hell. But I still don't think its right for you to take out your anger and hurt from Cosette on me. I'm trying my hardest and next time I may not be so forgiving."  
  
Aidan nodded solemnly and buried his face in his hands breathing in the cool morning air. "What are you doing up so early anyway?" he asked, "The masquerade ended pretty late last night you know."  
  
"Couldn't sleep," she shrugged, "besides the night is better than the day. It's so much prettier and tranquil. It's like a calm ocean, dark and foreboding but beautiful at the same time."  
  
He nodded in agreement, "That's true, and that description can be used for something else too. But we better get down off the roof, the suns high and everyone's going to be awake and cranky soon."  
  
Jessamine laughed slightly as Aidan got up and offered his hand to help her up. She took his hand and they descended into the dark opera house once again. As they reached the stage Aidan's eyes bulged at the sight of his father. "Hide," he whispered standing in front of her.  
  
"Aidan, why are you up so early?" James asked crossing the stage to his son.  
  
"No reason," he spit out hoping that Jessamine was hidden from sight by now. "Just enjoying the morning," he winced as he heard something hit the stage behind him. Whirling around his bit back his laughter as he saw Jessamine tumble out from behind the curtain.  
  
"I'm okay," she laughed brushing herself off, "nothing I haven't done before."  
  
"Just enjoying the morning?" James asked raising an eyebrow at his son.  
  
Aidan tried to talk but was absolutely tongue-tied. He stammered while James chuckled, "Well if you aren't going to help her up someone has to," he walked over to Jessamine and helped her up, "What's you name chère?"  
  
"Jessamine Deveraux," she smiled shyly. 'So this is the girl that Aidan has been seeing to,' he thought to himself as he kissed her hand.  
  
"Bonjour Mademoiselle," James replied happily. "Tell me, what do you do?" James was testing the girl.  
  
Aidan tried to act as though everything was normal but he was inwardly glaring at his father, 'what is he thinking?' he asked himself as he stared at his smiling father, 'and why is he smiling so much?'  
  
Jessamine's heart was beating fiercely as she was staring face to face with Aidan's father, "I'm a writer and Aidan helped me out by getting me a job here at the opera," she smiled. "I'm also a none to successful pick pocket I'm afraid," she laughed, her blue eyes twinkling merrily in the dim light.  
  
"Ah yes, the instigator of our little display last night," James mused, "I've heard about you from several people, good and bad comments, however the good outweigh the bad."  
  
"Well Papa," Aidan interjected, "I think we should stop scaring her and maybe be a little less creepy." 'I hope this works, I hope this works,' he thought as he moved between his father and Jessamine.  
  
"Nonsense," James smirked, "I don't think I'm scaring her, after all, she was the one who was brazen enough to rip the pants right off Dante, although according to your cut lip you intervened to help her out a bit."  
  
"Papa," Aidan hissed, "I believe that when a man tries to attack a woman someone should intervene." 'Mon Dieu,' Aidan thought, 'What is the world coming to? Next thing you know he's going to start sharing baby photos.'  
  
"And that someone to help was you," James smirked deviously. He did feel a tinge of guilt for purposely trying to embarrass his son, but ignored the sensation.  
  
"Father, I think you have something else to do right now," Aidan burst in, "maybe going to see Mama and not antagonizing Jessamine and me. I think those were your original plans."  
  
"It's okay Aidan," Jessamine said unwaveringly, "You're father is very nice. I don't know what you're so worried about." Aidan sighed and shrugged it off knowing he wasn't going to win this fight.  
  
"No, Aidan is right chère I do have other business to attend to but I need to speak with Aidan for a moment," James turned to his son and pulled him over to the dressing room corridor leaving Jessamine alone on the stage, "Aidan why are you so uptight? She's a perfectly nice girl, not like that last one, Cosette. I never cared for her much."  
  
"Papa," Aidan said in an exasperated voice, "Can't you just go? We can talk later; I'm busy at the moment if you couldn't tell." He had a desperate look on his face and his brows were furrowed. "Come on Papa, if it was 20 years ago and you were with Mama would you want grand-papa here interfering?"  
  
'I would be dead if he wasn't,' James thought to himself, but to appease his son he said, "Fine Aidan I won't stand in the way but if your mother asks where you are I'll be obliged to tell her you're whisking young poets off their feet."  
  
James laughed and turned towards Erika's dressing room. Aidan straitened his collar and headed back to the stage as James watched from the partially opened door. He chuckled to himself at his son's behavior and went down through the mirror and to the house on the lake.  
  
"I'm sorry" Dante stammered as he stood in the dark dressing room, "I wasn't thinking."  
  
"You never do." A shadowy figure tossed back, "Get the filles out of your mind and get back on task. Obviously you have given up seducing Noir."  
  
"I have not."  
  
"Oh yes you have. Attacking a woman doesn't make her want to sleep with you."  
  
Dante blushed brightly. He didn't mean to grab Christine that day. It's just she made him so mad with her cold demeanor towards him. It's like she knew what he was about before he could act. Plus her two older brothers didn't help matters much. Dante looked at the shadowy figure. Older siblings were such a pain.  
  
"I want you to try again with Noir." The shadowy figure stated after a moment of silence then tossed a list at Dante, "She tends to go to the cemetery alone when distressed. Follow her there and bring her to me. Also gather these materials for me?"  
  
"Shall I distress her for you too?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
The shadowy figure chuckled. After a few moments, Dante joined him. Krissy walked by the dressing room. She quirked an eyebrow, at the laughter coming out of it. Dante was a strange cookie. Krissy shook her head and headed to swings and flies. She needed to check the ropes since she saw Michael and Aidan up there earlier.  
  
Michael was just tighten one of the ropes when Krissy appeared on the walkway. He nudged his brother. Aidan stepped away with Michael as Krissy stood right by them. She smiled sweetly at them.  
  
"Hello, boys." Krissy smiled at the twins.  
  
"Hey Krissy." Michael smiled back.  
  
"Mama told us to come up and help you out." Aidan explained.  
  
"I can see that. If I find one rope out of place, you'll regret it." Krissy winked, "So I have you two clowns to help out."  
  
Buquet limped up, "Who is helping us out? It better not be these two scamps."  
  
"Orders from the masked one herself." Krissy smiled.  
  
Buquet growled, "Fine. JESSAMINE!!!"  
  
Jessamine quickly jumped from her kneeling position and looked over at Buquet. She smiled when she saw Aidan. Moving as fast as she could, she jogged over to the group. She blushes as Aidan stared at her in an unnerving way. He was so handsome in a jaded sort of way. Buquet turned to her and smiled at her.  
  
"Yes, sir?" Jessamine stated as she fully joined them.  
  
"Jessamine, I'm putting you in charge of these two. They need to learn the cues for the play by rehearsal tonight. Is that understood?" Buquet explained to her.  
  
Jessamine exchanged a look with Krissy and saluted Buquet, "Aye, aye, Captain Queeg!"  
  
Buquet glared at his assistant while she was laughing her ass off. Michael and Aidan smiled as Buquet silently glared at Krissy who was beginning to calm down. She smiled unrepentantly at the old stage manager. Finally Buquet cracked a small smile as he wagged a finger at her.  
  
"You are teaching her your bad habits." He accused Krissy with a laugh.  
  
"I prefer calling it preserving a time honored tradition." Krissy smirked.  
  
"You would."  
  
Mirielle dialed her mother's number. Confused and ultimately lost she had to talk to her. John had gone down to the hotel restaurant on a whim and she found the perfect opportunity to call. "Please pick up, please pick up," she whispered crossing her fingers.  
  
"Hello?" Beth answered drowsily. She had on her pajamas and Mirielle saw that she took her blessed time and grabbed a cup of coffee before answering the phone.  
  
"Hi mum," Mirielle smiled. "Did I interrupt your nap?" she joked trying to wake her mother up a bit.  
  
Beth yawned and rubbed her eyes, "It's almost midnight Mir, what's the matter?" Beth asked, her eyes half closed, looking almost drunk after being awaken at eleven forty-five.  
  
"Mum, I just don't know what's going on anymore. There are apparently two phantoms; one has blue eyes and the other green. Also, in addition to that I know our criminals are here, they have to be. But these mysterious phantoms are giving me advice and what the zed is going on?" Mirielle looked frustrated and tired as she sat there looking at the screen waiting for her mother to come up with the solution like she did when they were little. Skinned knees and broken arms were easier things to fix than a shaken constitution.  
  
"Mir, you can figure it out. Use the brain you were given and put everything together. Watch, observe, and listen, you're bound to come up with something," Beth said as reassuringly as she could for being exhausted.  
  
Mirielle sighed in frustration, "You're not helping!" she whispered harshly. Taking her hair out of the sloppy ponytail she kept it in she shook her head and let it fall to her shoulders. She didn't want to admit it but she felt a little lost, and almost wishing that she could go home.  
  
Beth wanted to tell her daughter everything, about Erika and the phantom, but she couldn't bring it to herself to let Mirielle hang on her words. "I've got to go," she lied. "Early day tomorrow, night dear." Before Mirielle could oppose Beth hung up.  
  
"Zed!" Mirielle yelled out, and then immediately winced waiting for a phone call from the front desk telling her to shut up. After several minutes of silence she relaxed and changed for bed. When she came out of the bathroom John was already in bed asleep. "He must have been beat," she told herself when she noticed he was still in his day clothes.  
  
Dante walked through the cold Parisian streets with a piece of paper clutched in his hands. "Where am I going to find half of this stuff?" he asked himself looking over the list again. He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. As he walked the paper crinkled like a candy wrapper in his sweaty hands. Every so often he would peak up from looking at the ground and look from side to side to check if anyone was coming.  
  
His coal gray muffler was wrapped around the bottom of his face, and his black jacket was buttoned. The navy blue pants he wore dragged on the ground and got wet. As his jacket billowed behind him he checked the address on the piece of paper for the third time. He looked up from the ground and smiled, "almost there," he reassured himself.  
  
Upon reaching the shack like building Dante used the special knock he had been taught and was admitted in the room. He handed a burly looking man the list and signed a paper with a blue ball point pen. His flowing handwriting was marred by the pseudonym he was using. "Count Kroft Von Mardock," the burly man questioned in a husky voice.  
  
"Yes," Dante replied, "Now get the goods." The other man quickly walked into an attached room and returned with a small brow bag. He handed it over with a gruff snort and Dante looked in the bag, "Is this everything?" he questioned.  
  
"Calling me a liar boy?" the man asked in a harsh raspy voice. Dante shook his head and quickly turned on his heel and left. Dante tightly clutched the bag in his hands. As he reached the opera house Dante pushed open the doors and walked to the dressing room where the meeting was designated.  
  
"Here it is," Dante said handing over the bag. "I got everything you asked for." The tall shadowed figure grabbed the bag, his hand shot out into the light. His skin was creamy white; his hands were slender and graceful. Well manicured finger nails wrapped around the top of the bag and then he quickly drew the bag and the hand  
  
"Good job," he said in a caustic tone. "Now go and try to do something else right or that may be too much to ask for two intelligent things in one night." He chuckled and Dante left the room and the man behind.  
  
"Mon Dieu," he breathed as he shoved his hands in his pockets. As he got ready to leave the building Dante tripped over something. He looked down and smirked, "What's this?" he asked paging through the little book. "Ah, it seems I have one more thing to bring me closer to my goal," he smirked holding the notebook in his cold hands.  
  
From the shadows two eyes watched Dante carefully. The eyes narrowed as he picked up the notebook and carried it out. They shut and then quickly disappeared backstage and down through the trapdoor to warn the family of what happened.  
  
Jessamine sat on front steps of the opera house. She looked up to the sky and sighed looking at the stars. The moon was full and creamy white. It feel upon her face causing there to be a gentle glint on her sunglasses, however dark out it was she still wore them. As she sat there she felt something touch her shoulder and slowly grasp on. She jumped and turned around as her mouth fell open, "Wh-wh-who are you?" she stammered standing up backing up slowly.  
  
"Ah Mademoiselle, I am your worst nightmare," he chuckled seizing her delicate wrist in his elegant hand. She wriggled trying to get free of his icy grip, "Come now mon chère, don't struggle, it can only hurt you." His smile was charming yet sadistic.  
  
She continued to struggle but he pulled her close and firmly held her other wrist and looked into her eyes. "Let me go!" she twisted and turned from him. "What do you want with me?" Her blue eyes started to tear as his grip grew tighter and those taken care of nails dug into her skin.  
  
"Mademoiselle," he smirked, "the more you struggle the harder I grasp your pretty little arms, now let's go inside, aren't you chilled from the night air?" Rather than waiting for her to answer he picked her up and covered her mouth with one of his hands. "Quiet mon chère, you wouldn't want to wake your fiery little lover now would you?" he walked away from the opera house, carrying the struggling girl in his arms, only to keep tightening his grip causing her pain and finally making a small cut on her wrist.  
  
He carried her through the streets of Paris. No one spared them a passing glance; a man carrying a woman in his arms didn't seem very odd, especially in Paris. After her continual struggling his nails finally broke her skin, the blood went underneath his fingernails and onto her arm. They soon entered a small apartment; lavishly furnished and decorated. He set her down on a velvet chair. "What do you want with me?" she asked, now crying and grasping the wrist that was slowly bleeding.  
  
"Ah, feisty, I like that," he teased, sitting down across from her. He crossed his legs and draped his arms over the sides of the chair. His silk shirt gently rustled, "Now mon chère, tell me, what do you see in that vile boy? He's not cultured enough for a girl like you. Here, I think this is yours," he nonchalantly threw the notebook at her. "You're quite good you know, you have a future, it's a pity that you waste your time with him."  
  
Jessamine's eyes narrowed as she grabbed the notebook from the floor. She hugged it to her chest. "You don't know Aidan!" she spat. "He's very cultured although it is none of your business. Now let me go! I want to go home!"  
  
He smirked. "Ah, but where is home mon chère? Answer me this, where do you live? I would think that you would openly admit that cheap hotels and open dressing rooms suited you perfectly. Yes, Jessamine Deveraux, I know more about you than you could imagine." He reveled in her surprised look. His dark eyes gleamed with mischievous excitement.  
  
"You!" she sneered. "I hate you!" Jessamine got up off of the chair and headed towards the door. She tried to turn the doorknob but it was locked from the outside. She spun around and leaned against the door, "let me out before I scream you monster!"  
  
He got up and took only a few steps with his long legs to get to her, he pinned her against the door, grabbing her arms, making the notebook fall to the ground, "I am not the monster mademoiselle and I advise you to watch your pretty little tongue, or else you may not have one anymore." He took it upon himself to throw her back onto the chair and then give her a pen. "Now mon fille, I'm going to dictate to you, write carefully, no hidden messages, and if you go back on one word I will personally see that we visit the Bastille and take one of the guillotines out of retirement."  
  
Jessamine shakily opened to a clean page in her notebook. She clutched the pen in her hand and looked up at him in fear. "If you try and hurt me Aidan will come get you!" she said trying to remain steady.  
  
"Ah, just like he came after Dante? Yes, Mademoiselle, you looked surprised. I know all about that, being that I was there," he smirked as she squirmed. "Now be a bonne fille, listen and write." He began to dictate the letter to her. Her handwriting was shaken and messy as he told her what to write. "Lovingly yours, Jessamine," he ended the dictation.  
  
She looked up at him with malice, "You are a monster!" she threw the notebook back on the floor, "I hate you! I did your bidding now let me go home monsieur!"  
  
He chuckled, "Ah, but I can't let you go, without you my plan can't fall into play. Now be a good girl and go into that room over there, but before you do give me that letter." She slowly approached him and handed him the paper, "Bonne," he smirked, "now there's enough clothing for you in that room for several days, I shall see you are taken care of, but defy me and your little Aidan will have nothing to save from the clutches of all evil," laughing sardonically he folded the note and put it in an envelope marked for the opera.

MW: (looking at the crying heap that is Angelina 809) Okay now this is getting ridiculious. You need to reveiw to make it better. kneels down Come on, my Moriarty bear is up there now and I'm not crying.


	9. Chapter 9

MW: (drags Angelina out behind her as she hums along to the CD with tape over her mouth) I had to stop her, the whole idea of her just singing Les Mis lines over and over was driving me up the wall.  
  
A: (rips the tape off) One more day 'til Revolution! We will nip it in the bud!  
  
MW: (clasps her mouth shut) Sorry everyone – she's a bit Javert obsessed and she's having mental problems due to - points to Erik Bear and Sherlock Bear in the devices so, on with the show!  
  
Wandering Children – Chapter 9 - Shadows of the Past  
  
"Dearest Aidan,  
  
I want to assure you I am unassailable at the present moment. I am conveying this letter from a disclosed location. It distresses me that I should have to be telling you this, but if you would ever like to set your eyes on me again you will come to the café de lune, Mercredi à six heures. If you do not come at the designated location at the specified time I fear that we shall never see each other again.  
  
In addition I am being provided for and you will not hear from me again until after Wednesday. In the envelope is enclosed a small wallet sized portrait of myself just incase you fail to ever observe me again in person you shall always have that little photograph to remind you of what you have forfeited.  
  
Lovingly yours,  
  
Jessamine"  
  
Aidan read the letter over and over again. After finding it backstage early that morning he hadn't opened it until the mid-afternoon. To think, Nadir accused her of skipping rehearsal to go and steal! The envelope was not addressed in her handwriting, but in a more elegant script.  
  
His chest tightened as he looked over the sentences and then the picture. He looked into the lifeless picture, her eyes were the same shade of blue, but it didn't do her presence justice. He began to breathe quickly and had to stagger over to the table on stage to hold his balance. It was only the day before she was giving them stage orders and now she was gone and obviously being forced to write letters that were much to pompous to be her own writing.  
  
It took him quite a few moments to regain some of his composure and to be able to think properly. He ran his hand down his face and neck before making his way to his mother's dressing room. He quickly passed Nadir, not even paying him much notice, since he had other things on his mind. Descending down the stairs two and three steps at a time he didn't care if he tripped or fell, whatever got him there faster was what he was going to do. "Mama! Papa!" he yelled as he got off the last step.  
  
Instead of seeing his parents right away, Christine came out of her room and looked up at her brother. The worried look on his face made her curious, but nervous at the same time. She had never seen him so pale, except from the night he revealed his secret to Cosette. She tried to stop him but he forged ahead completely ignoring Christine's concerned façade.  
  
"Mama! Papa! Where are you?" he asked agitatedly. The two of them stepped out of the kitchen and looked at their obviously nervous son. "Read this," he thrust the letter to them. Erika took it first and quickly looked over it, a sympathetic look crossed her face as James took it from her, "We need to find her," Aidan said trying to remain calm, but still breathing heavily  
  
"This could be a trap," James pointed out. "We don't even know if it was really her who sent this."  
  
Aidan rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper, "Yes I do, look it's her handwriting," he compared the two pieces, almost identical except the letter was shaky. "Now you tell me, if Mama were whisked away and forced to write a letter to you, possibly having her life on the line would you sit back and wait?"  
  
"I know how you feel Aidan, and when I was your age I probably would have jumped head first into it, but now I know, there's some risk involved, especially with the Yardies here," James could see the hurt on his son's face, but he couldn't permit him to run about Paris putting them all in danger.  
  
Before Aidan could respond to his father Erika spoke up, "Aidan," she put her hand on his shoulder, "Don't worry, we will find her. It will just take some time. Please, don't worry." Aidan sighed, half with understanding and then half with disgust. He walked to his room with heavy steps. When he slammed the door shut he sat at his desk. Laying the letter down on the desk he rested his head on his arms and closed his eyes. Hunched over he looked like he was writing when a delicate knock fell upon the door.  
  
He didn't say anything as both Christine and Michael stepped into the room, "Aidan," she whispered, "Are you okay?" her voice was tinged with concern as she approached her brother.  
  
"Go away," he murmured. "Leave me alone." Aidan looked up at them with a hard gaze as they made no movement to leave.  
  
"Come on," Michael sighed, "What happened? It can't be that bad."  
  
Aidan jumped up from the chair and looked his brother in the eyes. "Not that bad?! Not that bad?! What do you know? Well, unlike your precious little Yardie friend someone worth anyone's time has been kidnapped!" Michael and Christine's faces went white. "Yes, that's right! Jessamine is gone and the only thing we know is this," he threw the letter at them. "Now please, can you now honestly tell me that it can't be that bad!?" he screamed at Michael.  
  
Michael, now speechless just backed up towards the door. Christine whispered, "I'm sorry Aidan, but you know that we won't let her get hurt." As Christine spoke Michael picked up the letter and read it to himself.  
  
"That's simple for one to say, but for one to do it, that's a different story!" Aidan sat back down and ran his hands through his hair as he nervously tapped his foot.  
  
Michael tried to lift the spirits in the room, "Aidan, you know Jessamine has spunk, she'll be fine. After all, look at what she did to Dante at the Masquerade."  
  
"You don't understand do you?" Aidan remarked, "You don't realize that she's in obvious danger. I can't believe you can make light of this situation!" he said as he walked out of the room and up to the stage.  
  
Christine watched their brother walk away defeated. Christine went to follow him but Michael stopped her. She glared at him until Michael was sure they were alone.  
  
"He needs time alone." Michael told her, "Besides we need to help well."  
  
"Like what?" Christine asked.  
  
"One lets read this letter in a better light, maybe we can uncover a clue." Michael smiled at his sister.  
  
Christine chewed her lip nervously, "Do you think we should let the other two know what is going on?"  
  
"They could help. And it might distract them from their current investigation to give me more time to completely cover our tracks." Michael nodded, "I hear they are really looking the theater over."  
  
"Should we wait for them to come here or should we go to them?"  
  
"Let's go to them. It would look more urgent. Go get your cloak. I'll meet you by the Rue Scribe Exit."  
  
Christine nodded as she headed to her room to get her cloak. Michael looked at the letter again. He wasn't sure why but he had heard some of these phrases used before, he just wasn't sure where. Gradually he folded up the letter and put it away in his coat pocket. Moving quickly he headed up to the Rue Scribe exit.  
  
-------------------------------------------  
  
As Aidan reached the top of the steps he noticed Krissy, Nadir, and Buquet walked along the backstage, "I told you that she wouldn't be a good edition to the stage crew. I told you but did you listen? No, no one ever listens to me!"  
  
"It was only one day," Krissy defended, "besides, I can name quite a few times where you left Danesh waiting for you when you were late."  
  
Nadir grimaced at his boyfriend's lack of discretion. "Even so, she missed a whole day of work, without even calling in!" Nadir pointed out, "none of us have ever missed a day of work without calling in."  
  
"Don't be so sure of that," Buquet said, "Just because she missed one day of work we shouldn't penalize her. After all, Jess is new here."  
  
"For all we know that little thief is out robbing innocents. She's a menace, a real she-devil!" Nadir said, getting increasingly frustrated with his colleague's utter disregard for his opinion.  
  
At the sound of her name and Nadir's mouthing off Aidan stepped forward, "Is that what you think Nadir?" Aidan asked, his lip curling and his fists clenching. "Because if so you are entirely wrong."  
  
"Oh then where is she Aidan?" Nadir asked defiantly.  
  
"That's the problem!" Aidan yelled, "I don't know! She's gone, kidnapped, taken away and I can't do anything to help her! So, do you still hold her in low regards Nadir?" Nadir stared at Aidan dumbfounded.  
  
"What do you mean kidnapped? Do you have any idea where she is?" Krissy immediately burst in, and then turned to Nadir, "Yes, she's stealing alright, more like stolen!" Then, bringing her gaze back to Aidan "Is there any information on who might have taken her?"  
  
Buquet stammered at a loss for words. His heart beat fiercely and he grabbed onto one of the ropes to steady himself. "You're joking right Aidan, she's not really gone. She's with you right?" he asked not believing that she was really gone.  
  
"Maybe now that she's been stolen she'll think twice about stealing next time," Nadir remarked. Krissy gave him a disgusted look and drew back her fist. She threw her fist at Nadir and hit him in the eye. He looked at her shocked and put his hand on his swelling eye.  
  
Aidan looked at Nadir outraged, "How can you talk about the woman I love like that?!" The expression on Nadir's face went from shock to dismay as his knees weakened and he fell to the ground. His eyes rolled back as he hit the hard wood.  
  
Krissy stood there, angry at Nadir and sympathetic towards Aidan. Buquet staggered away still trying to grasp the concept that Jessamine was missing. Krissy looked to Aidan offering a reassuring glance and went after Buquet holding him up as he shook his head. As soon as they were out of sight Aidan squatted near Nadir's head and tapped on his cheek, "Nadir, they're gone."  
  
Nadir slowly came to and sat up. "About damn time, I forgot Krissy had one hell of a right hook," he sighed touching the raw area underneath his eye. "Support by opposition is not always the best way to help someone, look at what it can do."  
  
"Yea," Aidan said disappointed. "You might want to get some ice for that," he pointed to the eye, "It'll only get worse if you don't." His voice was only half-hearted without any conviction.  
  
Nadir sighed heavy heartedly and leaned against one of the machines backstage. "Aidan, if there's anything Danesh or I could do we'll be sure to help out."  
  
"Thanks," he murmured pulling the picture out of his pocket. "This is what I have left Uncle Nadir," he showed it to him. "I'll be back soon," he said walking away, "if Mama or Papa needs me I'll be on the roof."  
  
Nadir nodded as he disappeared up the stairs. "Dear Allah give me strength," he sighed heading towards Erika's dressing room. "This is going to be tough news to break."  
  
Nadir cautiously walked into the underground house. James was on the video phone with Fenwick. Erika paced back and forth as she listened to James conversation. Every so often, she would add something. Nadir cleared his throat catching their attention. Erika walked up to him.  
  
"I see that you know." Nadir observed.  
  
"Yes, James is having Fenwick spread the words that he is willing to buy any relevant information that pertains to her disappearance." Erika informed him, "I'm worried, Nadir."  
  
"I am too. Aidan is beside himself."  
  
"This was done to specifically hurt him. I know it." Erika stated firmly, "I refuse to let them hurt my family."  
  
Nadir sighed as he hugged his best friend, "I know. Trust me, Erika, I know. These are my godchildren we are talking about. We will protect them."  
  
James stood up and walked over to the two. Erika pulled away and joined her husband side. James pulled her close and stroked her hair lovingly. Nadir stood a little straighter as they regarded each other. Right now, they had the same agenda to protect their family.  
  
"Fenwick is spreading the word." James told them.  
  
"I place Akeem and myself at your disposal." Nadir bowed, "Your son is sulking on the roof."  
  
"I can't believe how worked up he is getting over one girl. I thought he swore off of women after Cosette." James grumbled.  
  
"He admitted that he's in love with her." Nadir remarked casually, "And he is acting that way as well."  
  
Erika smiled softly at the news while James felt shock for a brief second. After he looked at his son's behavior lately, things began to make sense. He smiled gently at Nadir.  
  
"Really? Well, that explains a lot of thing." James grinned, "It seems we need to work extra hard to get her back."  
  
Erika suddenly realized something, "Nadir, Has anyone seen Dante?"  
  
"No. I don't recall see him around lately." Nadir remembered as he his brow furrowed in concentration, "In fact he has been very scarce recently."  
  
"I think he needs a tail." Erika smiled, "See what Akeem can do."  
  
"Of course. Will we have more detectives involved with this?" Nadir smiled.  
  
"NO!" James shouted, "I forbid it."  
  
Erika placed a hand over James's mouth and replied, "Not just yet. As soon as we know more, I will inform them."  
  
"Very well, my Phantom." Nadir bowed again and walked out the way he came.  
  
"I won't have them here, Erika. I refuse to have them here." James warned her.  
  
"And if this proves to be more than we can handle? What then?" Erika shot back, "I promise not to bring them unless we really need them."  
  
"I would prefer them not to be here at all."  
  
"I know. Let's see if we can find any clues topside." Erika sighed as she led her husband towards one of the many exits in her house. James nodded as he let her led him away.  
  
----------------------------------------  
  
Michael waited for a few minutes until Christine came up to the Rue Scribe. "Do you have the letter?" she asked tightening the cloak around her as the wind blew harder. He pulled it out and showed it to her but quickly stashed it back in his pocket. "Where do you think they are?" Christine asked.  
  
"We'll go in through the front doors of the opera and see if they're inside, and if they're not we're just going to have to go around Paris looking for them," Michael decided. Christine nodded and followed Michael to the front steps of the opera.  
  
Opening the large doors they both sighed a sigh of relief as they noticed the Holmes twins examining a door frame. After taking a deep breath they got into character and rushed over to them, "Mirielle, there's been an emergency!" Michael said in an exasperated voice, as though he had been running.  
  
She abruptly turned around while John stayed unaffected by the goings on outside of the singular notch in the doorframe, "What is it?" she asked concerned.  
  
Christine held out her hand and Michael handed her the letter, "Jessamine has been taken! This is all we know," she pretended to start to tear and handed Mirielle the letter.  
  
"John, look at this," she motioned for him to come over without taking her eyes off of the paper. Her violet eyes sharply scanned the paper as she waited for John to stop lingering over the doorframe. "It's English produced paper," she mumbled, "black, ball point pen, paper-mate brand, and," she lifted the paper up towards the lights, "no watermark." She turned to Michael and Christine, "Do you have the envelope it came in?"  
  
"Regretfully no," Michael looked at the ground, and a strand of his hair fell in his face. "That letter is it, but we knew that you two could help us. Aidan knows nothing of this so please don't mention it to him."  
  
John grabbed the letter from Mirielle and drew the exact conclusions she did. His brows furrowed in concentration as he tried to gather information from it, but he was too concentrated on his other duties. "Mir," he turned to her, "You take Jessamine's disappearance to work on and I'll continue trying to find our thieves from the Downing Street crime," he handed her the letter.  
  
"Okay," she muttered taking it back into her hands and reading it over once again. John then quickly spun around and looked at the door frame again. Mirielle's eyes grazed the letter and she ran her fingers over the surface to get a feel for the paper. "When was the last time anyone saw her?" Mirielle looked up from the letter.  
  
"I saw her yesterday at rehearsal," Michael replied. Then he looked to his sister for her answer.  
  
"That's the last time I saw her as well," Christine confessed. "Mademoiselle Mirielle, if there is anything that we can do to aid you in your investigation, please ask us."  
  
Mirielle thought for a moment and then smiled weakly, "Merci for the offer, but you should really get back to helping your brother get through this, I'll make sure she's fine," as she started to walk outside she turned around and added, "Trust me."  
  
Christine nodded as she stepped away from Mirielle and Michael. Mirielle would question Michael about the letter and he would answer. Christine smiled at how well they fit together. Too bad, they can't be together. Christine turned and walked to the door of the Opera House.  
  
John watched Christine sadly walk away from Mirielle and Michael. She seemed so alone and sad. He felt torn between checking on her and continuing his investigation. Then his eyes narrowed as Dante ducked out behind Christine. John glanced at his sister as Michael showed her to the exit that the stage crew leaves by. John sighed and went after Christine and Dante.  
  
He silently followed them to a same cemetery as before. Christine looked around nervously before going in. Dante waited a few minutes before entering. John quickly stepped up to the gate. He felt a lingering sense of foreboding as he slipped through the bars.  
  
Christine entered her family's crypt silently. She often came here when she need to clear her head, a trait she shared with her mother. Gracefully she kneeled in front of her ancestor's marker that read Erik Noir. Christine closed her eyes in a silent prayer.  
  
Suddenly a sense of dread washed over her. Christine's eyes snapped open and she got up alarmed. She could sense a dark presence in her family's tomb. Before she could act, pair of arms grabbed and pulled her away. Christine struggled with all her might as she watched her assailant try to press a sickly smelling cloth to her face.  
  
Her one thought was to try and scream for help. The smell of the cloth began to make her head spin as the darkness tried to steal her sight. In a desperate attempt to free her self, Christine turned and kicked him as hard as she could. Soon she was propelled backwards and her head slammed against the stone crypt. Her world faded to black as she slid to the ground.  
  
John passed the lingering tombstones. The last time he was here, it didn't seem to so desolate. Now he shivered at the thought of being surrounded by death. Christine didn't belong here. She was so alive to him. John quickened his pace as his worries increased. Soon he saw Dante grabbing Christine. He tried to press a cloth to her face. Christine was struggling fiercely. She twisted towards him and kneed him in the stomach. Dante threw her to the ground in rage. Christine's head hit the stone Crypt. John watched in horror as she crumpled to the ground.  
  
Dante's face twisted in anger as he cursed the fallen singer. Determinedly he pulled an ionser from inside of his jacket and aimed at Christine. John felt his heart freeze as he watched Dante pull back the safety. Before he knew what was happening. John charged Dante and they struggled over the gun.  
  
Christine began to stir. She looked up to see John and Dante fighting over a charged ionser. She crawled away from them, watching them in fear as they fought over the gun. In an instant the ionser went off and John fell backwards. Christine screamed as she scrambled to his side. John struggled into a sitting position. Christine supported his weight. She was relieved to see it was only a flesh wound to his shoulder.  
  
Both of them froze as they heard Dante charge up the ionser again. John pulled Christine closer to him, trying to shield her with his body. Dante grinned at them in a sick way. Inky blackness began to creep into John's vision. As Christine trembled next to him, John fought it back as he glared at Dante.  
  
Dante sneered, "You would protect the whore. You must ask your self is the bitch worth it?"  
  
"She is worth a hundred of you." John bit out ready to face his fate as the blackness began to overcome his vision.  
  
"I agree." A tenor voice added as a black figure landed in front of John and Christine.  
  
John watched as the cloaked figure deflected the ionser blast with a simple sword. That is what Mirielle was talking about was John's last thought as he blacked out in Christine's arms.  
  
------------------------------------------------  
  
As she left through the back to go outside a bad feeling passed through her body. The shiver went down her spine and to her legs causing the hair on the back of her neck to stand straight. She shook it off and continue on outside. The Parisian late afternoon was like no other, no matter what anyone said, it was definitely the most beautiful city in the world.  
  
A small sigh escaped her lips as she looked over the letter again. "Hmm. . ." she concentrated closely on the wording and phrases. "Not very modern," she remarked to herself. "A lot of unneeded words, apparently the person who dictated this is into grandeur." She continued to stroll down the street letter in hand. She turned onto a small back street, a shortcut to the hotel when she felt something behind her.  
  
She looked over her shoulder but no one was there. She shrugged and continued walking. She still felt uneasy, but kept on walking nonetheless. Finally, as she turned once again a cold hand clasped over her mouth. She was stunned at first and then panicked. Her eyes went wide as she clasped her hands around the note in one hand and then tried to catch her assailant with the other. "Mademoiselle, please don't struggle, its quite hard to do anything nonviolent with a struggling fille in your grasps wouldn't you say?" his tone was sardonic, as was his crooked smirk.  
  
Mirielle's eyes narrowed as she tried to break free of his grip. He grabbed the back of her neck and put her into a sleep, "Now that wasn't so hard," he mused picking her up in his arms and carrying her to his apartment. He laid her on the chair where Jessamine had been sitting the previous evening. After ten minutes of waiting Mirielle came to and looked around confused, "Mon chère, do not be surprised, you're here in my apartment, I believe the subject of your little inquiry is in the other room," he smirked deviously.  
  
Mirielle began to put everything together, kidnapping Jessamine was a trap. He wanted to get at her too. "Okay," she said trying to remain calm, "What do you want and why do you want it?"  
  
"Ah, you're as calm as the Thames is deep mon chère," he teased her. "If you must know, I want what's mine and I want it because it belongs to me, what it is, I'm not about to reveal so soon in this unfolding game. But as I told your spirited friend, there are provisions enough for you, as long as you do my bidding first."  
  
"And what is that?" she asked haughtily.  
  
He chuckled at her and then smiled throwing a pad and pen her way, "Write as I dictate to you, do no more or less and we won't have a problem. But, if you fail to obey then we shall see what fate has in store for you won't we?"  
  
"Before I do anything," she tried to stay in a neutral attitude, despite her growing hatred for the person she didn't even know. "Tell me where we are."  
  
"We're at 245 Lefreve Boulevard," he admitted freely. "Now, let's start it with, Brother John," she started to write but he shook his head, "no, that's too common," pondering for a moment he looked up with a glint in his eye, "Dearest brother- " His dictation continued as she wrote on and on, the letter never seeming to end, but as she scribbled her signature to the bottom she handed him the pad and pen. "Very good mon chère, now you can bring it upon yourself to go and talk with the poet, she'll be happy with some company. Besides, it isn't like you two can do anything about it anyway."  
  
Mirielle got up and stiffly walked to the room where Jessamine sat on one of the two beds clutching her notebook with a death grip and closing her eyes. As Mirielle walked into the room and shut the door Jessamine looked up fearfully and then let out a sigh of relief. "I thought you were him," she murmured motioning towards the door.  
  
"No," Mirielle said, "however I did give my brother a clue as to where we were. The creep out there made me write a note similar to yours, only without mentioning a picture or forfeiting anything."  
  
"How did you manage that?" Jessamine asked, looking up at Mirielle with blurred blue eyes.  
  
"Well, I found out we're at 245 Lefreve Boulevard, so I would darken the letters and words that came up in that order," Mirielle whispered so that the man outside wouldn't hear what she had done.  
  
Jessamine looked at her in awe and smiled, "So that means we could possibly be saved? We won't have to stay here any longer?" She pointed to the door, "I hate him! I really do! He took me away and then forced me to write a taunting letter, please tell me Aidan is trying to find me." She looked up to Mirielle with hope flickering in her eyes. "He's doing all he can," Mirielle reassured her. "But for now we could think of some way to get out of here, or at least attempt to." She looked around the room at their assets. The room was scarlet with richly colored paintings on the wall. The carpet was the color of wine and the draperies were crushed velvet. "Well I was right about the extravagance," she murmured. On the bed there was a heavy white comforter, and then an idea struck her. She madly ripped at the comforter and underneath laid silk sheets. She smirked and rearranged the comforter to look as though it had not been touched.  
  
"What are you thinking?" Jessamine noted the mischievous look on Mirielle's face.  
  
Just as Mirielle was about to say something the man peeked his head through the door and smirked, "Well filles, I shall be at the market and then delivering a letter, don't get too lonely without me," he teased letting the door click dryly. Jessamine had the urge to jump on him and beat him to death, but Mirielle gave her a look that said, 'I have a plan.'  
  
They heard him lock the front door from the outside and then quietly left the room. "Okay," Mirielle smiled, "We're going to go into his room and get to work."  
  
"What kind of work?" Jessamine questioned, jotting a note or two down in her book.  
  
"You'll see," Mirielle said playfully. As soon as they knew he was gone for sure they went into his room. It was even more elegant than the room they had been sentenced to stay in. The furniture was all mahogany and the room resounded with gold. Jessamine and Mirielle shuddered simultaneously. Then, Mirielle rushed over to one side of the bed and said, "Okay Jess, now you go to the other side and we'll throw the comforter off to get the sheets."  
  
Jessamine didn't ask any questions and did as she was told. Mirielle began tying the layers of golden silk sheets together, "Here," she handed Jess the end, "start lowering it out of the window." Jessamine began lowering it until finally it hit the ground. Mirielle tied the last sheet to the bed post and then went over to the window. "I'm going to climb down, and you're going to too, got it?" she asked halfway out the window already.  
  
"Got it," Jessamine echoed as she watched Mirielle climb down with ease.  
  
She looked out across the street and let out a small laugh as a woman dropped her groceries and an older man gazed at Mirielle perplexed. As Mirielle got to the bottom Jess took a deep breath and started to climb out. She put the notebook in her teeth and lowered herself down. When she finally got to the ground the two girls ran back to the opera house, leaving the golden sheets flailing in the wind.  
  
He walked back to his apartment smiling. "Now all I need is the other girl and I'll have them all," he mused to himself as he adjusted the packages to be easier to carry. Humming a soft song to himself he continued down the street. When he reached the front of the building he looked up in shock. Hanging out of the third floor window were his sheets, from his bed, "Dammit!" he yelled dropping his packages on the ground. An elderly woman stopped and looked at him in awe for cursing out loud like that. He turned to the gray haired woman and glared. She pretended to not have been looking and quickly tottered off down the street, scared that the young man was going to pull a knife out on her with that steely gaze.  
  
----------------------------------------------------------  
  
John groaned as the pain spread into his shoulder. He wanted to roll over but found himself unable to. A pair of gentle hands touched his forehead trying to soothe away his pain. John opened his eyes and smiled in Christine's face. Convinced he was in a dream, he pulled her closer and kissed her softly. God she felt so real. When she pulled away, she gave him a small smile.  
  
"If you pulled that when my father was watching, you would be ripped to shreds despite that wound to your shoulder." she joked as she continued to check him over.  
  
"Where am I?" John asked her.  
  
"My family's home. The Phantom brought us here." Christine explained gently as she applied a balm to his shoulder.  
  
John hissed in pain as it stung his wound. It was then he realized he was in nothing but his boxers. A blush crept across his cheeks as he felt Christine's gentle touch. Christine giggled at the sight of his blush.  
  
"Don't worry," she giggled, "Michael stripped you down for me."  
  
"Thank god." John sighed, "Have you been taking care of me this whole time?"  
  
"Yes, with my mother's help." Christine grinned.  
  
"You are very talented at healing." John complimented her.  
  
Christine blushed and was about to say more when the door opened. Erika Noir entered her daughter's bedroom with more supplies. She smiled to see the young man alive and well. John stared at the similarities between the two women. How could he not see the strong resemblance between them. It was plain to see that they were mother and daughter. Erika handed her daughter the supplies.  
  
"I brought some more bandages and herbs to help with the pain that he may be feeling." Erika informed her daughter.  
  
"Thank you, Mama. How is Papa taking this?"  
  
"He is brooding in his study. He isn't happy about this but understands."  
  
"And Dante?"  
  
"Gone without a trace. I contacted Leroux and he'll tell the authorities what has happened." Erika smiled as she stroked her daughter's black tresses before she turned to John, "Right now, my sons are looking for your sister to inform her about what has happened."  
  
John nodded, "Thank you, Madame Noir."  
  
"Rest, young man. You will need your strength. If I am needed I'll be in the study with your father. Maybe I can get him to lighten up."  
  
Erika bowed to them and quietly walked out. John watched her leave to be sure she was gone. Christine bowed her head ready for his questions. John sat up and nearly cried out in pain. Christine's head snapped up in worry. She leaned over him to see what caused him to cry out. John blushed as her face was inches from his. He searched for a way to break the tension in the room.  
  
Finally he spoke, "Your mother is the great prima?"  
  
"Oui, she has been training me to take over for her in many things. I don't want to stay here my whole life. Maybe later on, but I wish to see the world." Christine confided in him.  
  
John could hear the yearning in her voice. He wanted to comfort her. Reaching out he touched her cheek, Christine looked to him questioningly. John swallowed his pride.  
  
"I guess I can relate to that. My father is training me to take over for him. I don't want that yet. That's why I jumped at the chance to come here and live a little." John told her.  
  
Christine smiled at him, "We are a lot alike, Monsieur Holmes."  
  
"I've kissed you twice now. I think it's permissible for you to call me, John. Christine, why was Dante after you?"  
  
"I'm a Noir and he is a de Chagny. It is the way of things. Please you have asked enough of me. You must rest. Soon we will return you to your sister." Christine pleaded as she moved away from him. John nodded and lay back down. Christine rubbed oil on his forehead. The musky scent of myrrh filled his nose. Slowly he fell asleep under her tender ministrations. 


	10. Chapter 10

A: -Angelina and Mysha both walk out, this time followed by a crusade of muses/pixies/faeries- this is war!  
  
MW: On what Angelina?  
  
A: -smirks- You! You have stolen the last of my stuff! -turns to the group- Attack!  
  
Nightmare: -rolls her eyes- Honestly -takes the three bears from the machine and hands them to Angelina who clutches them with death grips and Mysha who can't stop laughing- Now where's that money you promised?  
  
A: -smiles- I said I would give it to you if you gave Mysha what was coming to her -point to still standing- She's perfectly fine – not a scratch!  
  
Muses/pixies/faeries: -all walk away mumbling about false pretenses-  
  
MW: -laughing- On with the show!  
  
Wandering Children

Chapter 10-Decisions  
  
Mirielle and Jess looked over their shoulders as they ran down the streets. Their chests heaved up and down as they ran towards the large gray building in the distance. As their feet hit the ground the steps rang through dark streets. They arrived at the opera house and immediately entered before catching their breath. They looked at each other and smiled weakly, "At least we're out of there," Mirielle said still regaining her breath.  
  
She nodded in agreement and sat on the floor leaning against the door. Suddenly, there was a push on the door and Jessamine jumped up and screamed. Mirielle and her backed up towards the auditorium as the door creaked open slowly. Their hearts rapidly beat in their chests until they finally relaxed. To their relief Aidan and Michael walked through the door.  
  
Aidan and Michael's hearts stopped. Only twenty minutes ago Michael had gotten the note that was addressed to John about Mirielle's disappearance. Upon reading the note he went to get his brother off the roof. Despite his objections of Mirielle Aidan went with Michael to wander around the city looking for Mirielle and Jessamine.  
  
Shock took over, they didn't know whether to be afraid, launch themselves at each other, or become excited. Michael then realized something, he was putting Mirielle in danger, it was him who this unknown person was after, not her. He walked over to her and put his arms around her, not knowing what to say he just held her close. He buried his face in her hair, and a few tears fell from his eyes.  
  
"I'm so sorry," he murmured.  
  
"About what?" Mirielle asked with a tinge of worry in her voice.  
  
"Putting you in danger like that," Michael said pulling away from her slightly, but still holding onto her. "I don't know how to tell you this," Michael grimaced trying to think of an excuse.  
  
Mirielle looked into his face with confusion. The only emotions she could read on his face were, hurt, anger, pain, relief, and sorrow, what about, she had no idea. "What do you mean?" she asked softly.  
  
"Your brother followed my sister to the graveyard," he began. "While they were there Dante apparently came and tried to kidnap her using a rag soaked in chloroform. Your brother witnessed this and went to her rescue; unfortunately he was shot in the shoulder." He waited for her to cry out or bitterly respond to it.  
  
"Where is he?" she asked calmly. "Where's John?"  
  
Her voice became panicked but still soft enough to sustain a normal level. Michael took her hand in his and started towards the auditorium. Aidan looked at Jessamine in disbelief.  
  
"Is it really you?" he asked chocking back tears of joy that she was back.  
  
"Oui," she smiled gently and walked forwards a little bit.  
  
Aidan closed up the distance between them and touched her cheek. Her blue eyes looked up into his gray ones and he took a curl from her hair and wrapped it around his finger. Jessamine blushed as his fingers brushed against her face.  
  
"It is you," he smiled, "I was so worried."  
  
'Why am I telling her this?' he thought to himself. From the stairs Akeem watched their reunion. He watched as Mirielle and Michael left the lobby and went to the auditorium, and while Aidan waited for those two to be gone before taking Jessamine in his arms to kiss her. Akeem silently tiptoed away and to the backstage area through secret passage ways.  
  
He knocked on his uncle's office's door and hear Nadir call him in. "What is it?" Nadir said pouring over some paperwork.  
  
Akeem stammered and then said, "They're back. Michael and Aidan returned, but so did Inspector Mirielle and the thief." Nadir dropped his pen on the table and his mouth dropped. "Michael took the inspector back stage while Aidan and Jessamine are in the lobby. You may want to notify Madame Noir and her husband about the return of their sons' sweethearts."  
  
"For once I am glad you have a big mouth," Nadir smiled getting up from his chair. "Now, go do more spying on Michael and the inspector, make sure they don't go near Erica's dressing room." Akeem nodded and hurried out the door.  
  
"Allah, give me strength," he murmured hurrying to the Rue Scribe.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  
  
Akeem climbed the flies of the stage. From high above he could see almost everything, but he couldn't hear what they were saying. For once he wished he had his Uncle Danesh's sense of hearing.  
  
"Your brother is being taken care of by my mother and sister," Michael told her as they walked along. "He'll be fine as long as they're around. But, I can bring him back to your hotel when he's up on his feet."  
  
"I want to see him," Mirielle said decidedly, "Where can I find him?"  
  
Michael quickly thought up an excuse, "They took him to our house and it's quite a walk from the opera to it, I suggest we just wait for some news about him here."  
  
Akeem saw Michael get nervous. 'She must have asked to see her brother,' Akeem thought. 'If he even thinks about it I have to intervene.'  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=--==-  
  
Nadir raced down the secret stairs to the underground house. As he burst through the door, Erika was just exiting a room. Erika looked at him in confusion. Nadir walked up to her.  
  
"The sister is upstairs right now." Nadir stated sharply.  
  
"Does she know?" Erika asked as she walked to Christine's room.  
  
"It's only a matter of time until she insists upon seeing him." Nadir remarked, "Is he well enough to move?"  
  
"Yes, he is. Currently he is sleeping."  
  
"Good, let's get him upstairs."  
  
The two friends moved quickly to get John upstairs in the dressing room. Christine hovered near by. She kept telling herself it was because he was her first patient to cover up the truth. Soon they had John settled on the cot in Erika's dressing room. Christine knelt by his side and waited until he woke up.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-  
  
He moved quickly. The basement was only one more flight down and he needed to get there before the liquid boiled. Reaching the bottom he pulled out a tiny silver key and unlocked the door. Looking from side to side he sneaked into the room and flicked on the lights.  
  
Shutting off the heater he took the vial of clear fluid and smiled. Adding a small amount of white powder and a blue crystal-like substance he put a plug on the vile and smirked. "This will get them yet, unlike that bumbling fool," he sneered at the thought of how Dante had failed to take the third girl and ended up shooting that boy.  
  
He wrapped a silk handkerchief around the tube and put it in his pocket. Wrapping his scarf high on his face he exited the building into the cold streets. The opera's rehearsal was well underway, giving him his chance. Walking down the streets, hands in his pockets, gently cradling the vile in his all too well manicured hand.  
  
A sadistic smirk spread across his lips while the dark eyes cut through every person in the street like knives. His steps were quick and jaunty, with a hint of anxiousness to them. Down the street from the opera house it looked foreboding, like a large tomb, a chuckle escaped him as the last thought passed through his mind, as that was exactly what he intended it to be, a large grave. Hate filled his body for the Noirs, he wished to watch them die, all of them, slowly at first and then the serpent would strike and inject them all with lethal venom that would do away with them for good.  
  
He went through the back door of the opera, going towards the dressing rooms. His eyes were set on the Noir woman's dressing room. He heard the orchestra fire up and a male and female voice start singing. Looking from side to side he poked his head into the small dressing room. There was the boy asleep on the cot; gently cursing to himself he quietly entered hoping not to disturb the boy's sleep. A pitcher of water rested on a table with some cups. He smiled knowing this was his chance to be rid of them for good. Taking the vile out of his pocket he quietly uncorked it and poured the whole potion into the pitcher. He snickered and then exited the dressing room, lightly closing the door as the boy twisted uncomfortably in his sleep.  
  
As he walked away he mused, "Sleep petite garcon, sleep while you can, for the next days will have none of that going on," he chuckled and went through another door and into another dressing room, watching out the partially opened door for the rats to eat the bait in his trap.  
  
As he waited the thoughts of their demise clouded his mind. A sick fascination with their deaths pushed him and fueled his horrific nature. He was motivated by his sick thoughts, the violent movies he watched, the grueling and explicit novels he read all powered his blood-lust. Watching out of the door he saw the father enter the dressing room with speed and stealth. The dark hope that he would drink from that pitcher made him cross his fingers and hold his breath, outdoing that fool Dante was his goal, to get rid of them once and for all.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-==============-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  
  
Mirielle looked at Michael questioningly, 'why won't he let me see my brother?' she thought nervously, hoping nothing else had happened to him. "Michael, I need to see him, now where is he?" she finally asked.  
  
Just as Michael was about to explain to her that he was at his home, Akeem ran up. "Mademoiselle Holmes, your brother is in Madame Noir's dressing room, would you like to see him?" Michael gave him a curious look but then shrugged it off, knowing it could be worse.  
  
"That would be great," Mirielle replied, "lead the way."  
  
Akeem led her to the dressing room where John sat up on the cot. Mirielle rushed into the dimly lit room and sat on a chair on the side of the cot, "Mum and Dad are going to kill me when they find out that you got shot under my watch," she teased trying to lighten the melancholy mood.  
  
"I don't think so," John smiled weakly, and then coughed.  
  
Mirielle looked at her brother and her head drooped to one side in concern and wonderment. He looked different, but she couldn't place it. Although obviously hurt he was still cheerful enough. His skin had taken on a different glow, his eyes were brighter and more alert, and he seemed more pleasant in general. "Do you want to go back to the hotel?" she finally asked, unable to place his unusual demeanor.  
  
Michael poked his head in the door and offered, "Do you need any help?" Brushing a stray piece of hair out of his face he smiled warmly, hoping that they would take up his offer and vacate the dressing room as quickly as possible.  
  
"That would be good," John said slowly turning himself on the cot so that his feet hung off the side.  
  
He reached out his good arm and Michael helped him off the cot. The makeshift sling supported his arm's weight for the most part and Mirielle opened the door for them. They walked towards the car, Michael standing on one side of John and Mirielle on the other.  
  
"Don't drive fast," John pleaded as they approached the hovercraft, "I repeat, do not drive fast."  
  
"Do you really think I would?" she asked arching a brow at him and then opening the hovercraft's door. "What do you take me for, a barbarian?" she joked as she slammed the door shut jostling it from side to side. Before climbing into the driver's seat she smiled at Michael, "Thanks for the help, I'll see you around." Michael nodded and Mirielle shut the door. John cringed as she turned the key in the ignition and slowly took off towards the hotel.  
  
Akeem sighed exasperatedly as he exited the dressing room. "What next?" he murmured to himself leaning against the door not knowing where to go from here. He closed his eyes trying to think straight when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Instinct told him to grab the hand as quickly as he could as his eyes shot open he went to grab the hand but was only greeted by two blue eyes looking up from under a pair of sunglasses. "It's you," he sneered looking down at her and then his eyes lit up, "It's you; I need to talk to you."  
  
"I needed to talk to you too," she said clutching her notebook to her chest she stammered, "I know what he looks like," she said in a low quiet voice.  
  
"You know what who looks like?" Akeem asked looking at Jessamine confusedly, completely forgetting what he was supposed to do. "Would you mind to elaborate or are you going to stand there and stare at me." She didn't speak up immediately and he rolled his eyes, "Speak up Mademoiselle, we don't have all day."  
  
Jessamine bit back a sour comment and said, "He was tall, taller than you with short blonde hair. His eyes were very dark, almost black," she paused and thought for a moment trying to conjure up his image again.  
  
Akeem let out a deep breath, "You still didn't tell me who it is!" he growled. "Now tell me who he is and then go on describing him." He took several deep breaths before calming down.  
  
"I would tell you who he was if only I know," she spat back, her knuckles turning white as she clutched the notebook harder. "Now as I was saying," she gave him a dirty look, "aside from his dark eyes his hands were exceedingly elegant and strong." She held out her wrist to show him the scars forming from where the man had dug his nails in, "He dresses lavishly, the colors are bright and the fabric is rich. That's all I can remember for now, but if I find out anything else I'll tell you M'sieur Khan."  
  
Akeem stared at her in disbelief. He'd never been at the receiving end of her temper and frankly he didn't want to perturb her even more so putting on a nice face he said, "Is that your kidnapper Jessamine? Is that what he looked like?"  
  
Jessamine rolled her eyes disgustedly, "No, it's my description of your Uncle," she said sarcastically, "who else would it be?"  
  
Instead of saying anything rude or obnoxious in return Akeem just said, "You don't know how much you just helped Jessamine," and ran off to find his uncle.  
  
After informing his anxious uncle of the description that Jessamine gave of her attacker he grabbed Michael from the lobby and Aidan from working on some of the ropes and pulled them into a spare dressing room. "Well we know almost nothing about the kidnapper," Akeem said leaning against a wall adjacent from Michael and Aidan who both sat on the cot.  
  
"Where did you get the little information you now have?" Michael asked leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. One eyebrow raised while the other comfortably rested where it should be.  
  
Akeem smirked as Aidan leaned back crossing his arms in front of his chest, versus his over enthusiastic younger brother that leaned forward in anticipation. "Jessamine," he replied simply. "And may Allah save the man who deals with her for the rest of his life," he added quickly.  
  
Michael chuckled while Aidan rolled his eyes when there was a knock on the door. Akeem answered the door and gave the two brothers a look that had, 'Speak of the Devil,' written all over it. Jessamine stepped into the room and looked around, "Do any of you know why Dante is parading around happy as a clam?" she asked without hesitation.  
  
"Does he need a reason?" Michael asked. Aidan shot him a look and lightly punched him on the back. Michael rolled his eyes and then corrected himself, "It's because he's an idiot."  
  
Jessamine gave him a questioning look and then a question popped into her head. After a minute's hesitation she finally asked, "Aside from the fact that Dante is, well Dante, are there any other reason why your whole family hates him?"  
  
Aidan got up from the cot and let out a heavy sigh. Michael and Akeem looked at each other with looks that said, 'He isn't going to tell her? Is he?' and both shrugged in unison. Akeem crept over to the cot and sat down next to Michael watching Aidan like a hawk. "Jessamine," he began, "there's a lot of, um... history behind the Noirs and De Changys."  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  
  
After Mirielle and Michael helped John up and out of the dressing room, James came back through the Mirror. That was close. He wanted those Detectives gone. Maybe that would scare them away. Feeling his age for the first time in a long time, he poured himself a glass of water. He was about to sip it when Erika walked in with Nadir. Reluctantly, James sat it down.  
  
"Are they gone?" James asked.  
  
"Yes." Erika informed him.  
  
"My nephew is interviewing Jessamine as we speak about what she saw." Nadir added.  
  
James nodded, "Good. We need to be on our guard."  
  
"He may try again more violently this time. Dante is still missing." Erika stated worriedly as she began to pace.  
  
"I will tighten up Security for tomorrow's performance then." Nadir suggested, "James, would you be willing to help?"  
  
"Of course." James nodded.  
  
If someone out to get his family, he refused to stand aside. Heaven help the fool when he gets his hands on them. James looked at Erika who stopped pacing to pour herself a glass of water. She was about to sip it when a thought struck her. She put it down.  
  
"Nadir, Did Dante have any access to the ropes in the flies?" Erika asked.  
  
Nadir thought for a moment, "No, he didn't. Krissy refused to let him up there. She was afraid he would hurt someone. Now we know she was right."  
  
Erika smiled relieved, "Thank god."  
  
James noticed how tired Erika looked. He picked up her glass and his. He handed Erika hers. Erika gingerly took it. He could see she was nervous about their children's safety. James smiled at her.  
  
"They will be fine, my angel." James told her, "You need to relax. Drink your water. We need that voice in top shape for tomorrow's performance."  
  
"With you watching over us, I know we will be." Erika smiled as she lifted her glass in a toast to her husband, "Bottoms up."  
  
Together they drank their water. Erika dropped her glass as a sharp pain shot through her body. The glass shattered as it hit the floor. Another shattering sound followed it. Erika looked up to see James in great pain as well. Her eyes fell on the pitcher. It had been poisoned. Nadir was crouched by her side in a second as she fell to her knees.  
  
"Erika?! What is wrong?" Nadir questioned her with great concern.  
  
"The water. poisoned." Erika whispered, "Hurry Nadir."  
  
James reached out to Erika and pulled her against him. He was pale but seemed in less pain. He held his wife gently. Nadir nodded as he stood up and raced from the dressing room. James got to his feet and tried to support Erika. Slowly he made his way to the mirror. He had to get her to house and Erika's remedies. Erika clutched him tightly as the pain washed over her. James held her close as he moved.  
  
"Don't worry. We'll make it." James whispered to her as they went through the mirror and prayed it was true.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  
  
She looked at him as though he had grown another head, "What do you mean?" she asked reaching behind her and feeling for the desk to lean on, still staring at him with question in her eyes.  
  
Just as Aidan was about to talk the door of the dressing room burst open. Nadir, looking severely panicked, stood there.  
  
"Michael, Aidan," his voice shook a little, "You're parents have been poisoned."  
  
Michael jumped up from the cot while Aidan spun around to look at him in disbelief. Jessamine lost her hold on the desk and fell onto the floor as Nadir made the comment while Akeem's eyes went wide with wonder.  
  
The first one to speak up was Michael, "Where are they? Are they okay?" His face turned ghastly pale when he realized what was happening. He quickly turned to Jessamine who was getting up off the ground, "You said Dante was happy?"  
  
As she rubbed her lower back she murmured, "That's right."  
  
"They're at home," Nadir pointed out. "The water in your mother's pitcher was poisoned."  
  
"Where is it?" Michael asked getting ready to run out the door.  
  
"It's also at the house," Nadir said, "No one touched it. Christine said that you would be able to analyze it." Michael nodded and ran out the door towards his mother's dressing room. "Come on you two," he turned to Aidan and Akeem, "you can help me with looking for the man that fits her," his lip slightly curled as he looked towards Jessamine, "description." Akeem and Aidan nodded and followed him out of the door as they closed it, leaving Jessamine in there to ponder what little information she had been given.  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  
  
Michael was hunched over the chemistry set. He was trying to find out what was in the pitcher of water. As he lit the Bunsen burner, he glanced over to his sister. Christine was pale since she was in the house when their father entered with their mother passed out in his arms. He collapsed as soon as he entered. Christine frantically called their grandfather. Fenwick determined that the poison wasn't a fatal amount but they would need to find the antidote soon to make any impact on it.  
  
Michael turned his attention back to his experiment. As he dipped his tongs into the water, he could hear Fenwick come out of his parent's bedroom. Fenwick walked up and looked over his grandson's shoulders. His tired old eyes scanned his equipment in front of his. Just as Michael went to put the tongs in the flame, Fenwick cleared his throat.  
  
"Your goggles." Fenwick reminded him.  
  
Michael sighed as he pulled down his goggles. He put the tongs in the flame and it turned blue. As he jotted down what the substance could be, his grandfather moved his arm away from the flame. Michael put down his pen and looked at Fenwick. Fenwick smiled and moved away to help Christine. After a few more test, Michael stood up.  
  
"It's a synthetic form of dragon's breath." He said to his sister.  
  
"A de Chagny's favorite poison." Fenwick grumbled, "Your mother had to deal with it once to save your father."  
  
Christine looked at her grandfather, "What did she use to counteract it?"  
  
"White Lotus Blossom, I think." Fenwick tried to remember.  
  
"I'll go get some." Christine stated as she headed to the door only to blocked by Michael.  
  
"I'm not letting you almost get kidnapped again." Michael growled.  
  
"I'll go." Fenwick said, "I'm unknown to who ever is torturing us."  
  
"Thank you, Grandfather." Michael smiled as he stared at Christine, "We'll wait for word from Nadir and Aidan."  
  
Christine glared at her brother. Michael only smiled cheekily back at her. They two stared at each other when Aidan slammed in. The younger siblings jumped as they watched Aidan collapse in a chair. He seemed depressed. Michael moved to his side.  
  
"We couldn't find him or Dante." Both have disappeared." Aidan reported, "How are they?"  
  
Christine spoke up, "They are fine. The dosage isn't lethal, but they are in a lot of pain. Grandpapa went for what we need to make an antidote. Right now, they are resting."  
  
Aidan nodded, "Can I go in and see them?"  
  
"Papa has been asking for you." Michael told him.  
  
Aidan nodded as he stood up and disappeared into his parents' bedroom. Michael stared at the portrait above the fire place. The mask figure looked down back at him. Michael wondered if this is how their late grandfather felt when his wife was dying? Christine joined his side.  
  
"Michael, what are you thinking?" Christine asked.  
  
"If this is what they went through when the de Chagnies struck?" Michael whispered, "And how you are going to have to deal with it for the rest of yours?"  
  
"I don't what to be the Phantom, Michael. It doesn't fit me like being a singer does." Christine confessed, "After this I'm going to have to do it."  
  
"Maybe not." Michael smiled at her, "Maybe something else will happen."  
  
"I hope so." Christine admitted.  
  
Suddenly the door to house swung open. The siblings turned to see Jessamine stumble in. She gazed at them wide eyed before collapsing in a heap. Michael and Christine hurried to her side. What now?  
  
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  
  
Aidan slipped into the room. On the bed laid his parent's unmoving forms. Aidan was suddenly frightened that his sister was wrong and the dose was fatal. His father was holding his mother close to his heart as possible. Aidan stepped up to the bed. As he neared to the edge, James's blue grey eyes opened and locked on his son's face.  
  
"Aidan, my boy?" James asked.  
  
Aidan nodded, "Michael told me that you wanted to see me."  
  
"Any luck?"  
  
"No, but Nadir is still looking. How about you?"  
  
"In a lot of pain. I can't do too much more than think."  
  
"How's mama? Is she?"  
  
"Sleeping." James answered sadly, "I just got her to sleep. She remembers her own mother being like this. She is very scared. I have never seen her scared."  
  
"It's not fatal."  
  
"We know, it's just hard being like this. I wanted to talk to you and your brother about something very important."  
  
"Should I call in Michael?"  
  
"No, because your mother isn't sure if he'll want part of it. As you know, I have been training you two to take over for me."  
  
"Of course, Grandpapa has been after you for months to give us some control."  
  
"Well, aside from this last caper, you two have done an excellent job. Especially you, Aidan. You have emerged as a real leader. I was always proud of my boys even when you got cocky."  
  
"Thanks, Papa."  
  
"This last visit home has made me think a little bit." James admitted as he looked down at his lovely wife asleep in his arms, "While I would still control the Underworld, I want to be home more for your mother."  
  
"What are you saying?"  
  
"Aidan, I want you to run things for me. I'm getting old and I want to spend more time with your mother. She doesn't say it, but I know she wants me here with her more often. And she won't push for it. My little siren won't force me into retirement."  
  
"Then why are you doing this?"  
  
James grimaced as pain flashed through his body, "Because I'm getting too old to be the mysterious Professor James Moriarty. Too old for taking on enemies of all shapes and sizes. It's time for a new Napoleon of Crime to emerge. Make the Underworld your own, my boy and I'll make your orders as creditable as I can."  
  
"I will, Papa." Aidan nodded, "Do you want me to send Michael in?"  
  
"Let me rest." James grinned, "Then send him in. Your mother wants to talk with him too."  
  
Aidan nodded again and left the room. His world was changing. His father was retiring and he was to take over. Where did that leave him with Jessamine?


	11. Chapter 11

MW and Angelina walk out with smiles on their faces. MW: Well everyone, its almost over!  
  
Angie: Doesn't it seem like just yesterday we started the story?  
  
MW: Grins Sure it does.... holds up a sign that reads "You don't get the last chappy until we get reviews"  
  
Wandering Children  
  
Chapter 11- Ain't it funny how life works?  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------  
  
After exiting his parent's room Aidan heard his brother and sister's voices floating down the hall. "We can't do that!" he heard Christine say.  
  
"Well what else should we do?" Michael asked in a harsh tone.  
  
Before Christine could answer Aidan came into the room and saw Jessamine crumpled on the floor. He looked from Michael and Christine and walked over to her and kneeled down. Putting his hand under her nose he checked if she was breathing and then delicately opened her eyelid to look at her pupil.  
  
"She just came in and -" Michael started put was cut off by a steely look from Aidan.  
  
Aidan lifted her body off the ground and turned to his siblings, "I'll take care of her, while you two wait for grandpapa, when he gets back send him to my room."  
  
Without waiting for their protests he walked towards his own room with Jessamine nestled in his arms, head against his chest while he supported her legs and back.  
  
Thoughts ran through his mind about what could have happened to her. When he got to his bedroom he opened the door and laid her on his bed. After making sure her external vital signs were stable he exited the room to quickly get a damp wash cloth. He went into the bathroom and grabbed a wash cloth out of the closet. Aidan ran it under some cool water soaking it and then ringing it out he took it back into his room.  
  
Pulling a chair over to the side of the bed Aidan placed the cloth on her forehead hoping she would wake up. "Please be okay," he murmured to himself watching her breath and making sure her condition wasn't changing. When he removed the quickly dried wash cloth from her forehead she groaned softly and moved a little bit. Aidan's heart lifted as her eyelids fluttered open and looked around.  
  
"Where am I? What?" she asked groggily looking around the room. She rubbed her eyes and went to sit up.  
  
Aidan gently pushed her back down onto the pillows and said, "What are you doing here? How did you get here?" he asked softly although a little worried that getting down to their home was becoming too easy.  
  
"I followed you," she replied in a whispery voice. "But, the Phantom is supposed to live in the fifth cellar and this is the fifth cellar," her eyes went wide and her cheeks paled; she looked as though she was going to faint again. Aidan 'shushed' her so that she wouldn't excite herself. When she finally calmed down he let her begin again, "I was curious as to where you were going so I followed you from your mother's dressing room down the stairs and here. I wanted to find out what you were talking about earlier, about the Noirs and the de Chagnies."  
  
Aidan took a deep breath before starting. "Jessamine, have you ever read The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux?" he asked. She nodded and he went on, "Well, Erik Noir, the Phantom, is my distant relative. Dante's distant relative is Philippe de Chagny. Ever since 1881 there's been a harsh rivalry between our families, namely over women. Well, in accordance with that someone always dies, it's either a De Chagny or a Noir. That's how it has been and always will be."  
  
She just stared at him for a few moments processing the information. Then, after finally taking it all in she whispered, "I'm sorry about your parents."  
  
Aidan nodded in agreement, "I am too, but they should be fine." He put on a good face and leaned back, "the dose wasn't dangerous so they'll be up and running again soon." He wasn't quite ready to tell her what he had to do for his father, but telling her who his father was felt like an obligation. "Jess," he said uneasily.  
  
"Mhm..." she hummed looking around the medium sized room from her comfortable perch on his bed.  
  
"Have you ever heard of Professor James Moriarty?" he asked quietly. Her head quickly jerked towards him and she gave him a questioning glance. Propping herself up she looked into his steel eyes waiting for an explanation. "He's," Aidan paused. 'You can still get out of it,' he told himself, 'you don't have to tell her.'  
  
"He's what?" Jessamine broke his chain of thoughts. Realizing he may not want to say anything she muttered, "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want to."  
  
'Come on man,' Aidan argued with himself, 'it's too late to back out of it now.' After wetting his severely dry lips he said, "He's my father."  
  
Mirielle and John sat in the hotel room staring at each other. "I'm telling you," John argued, "Dante is the man we're after." He winced when he moved, momentarily forgetting about the still fresh wound on his shoulder.  
  
"Prove it," Mirielle countered angrily.  
  
"He tried to kidnap Miss Noir," he pointed out, "and you see how much trouble he causes around the opera house. It's almost too obvious."  
  
"Dear John," Mirielle sighed leaning back in her chair frowning. "You know that when the ionizer shot was deflected that move was apparently a signature move of the Phantom."  
  
"So?" John snapped. "It's easy to impersonate someone. Grandpa Grayson points that out all the time. Besides, I'm not sure that only one person knows how to do that. It is quite likely that a lot of people can."  
  
Mirielle rolled her eyes, "Well then, why did we find the perp's footprint here? I know as well as you do that Dante is far too small to have footprints that size!" a smirked crossed her lips when John looked perplexed for several long minutes. "You're not being rational," she teased coldly.  
  
"I am being perfectly rational!" John scoffed, "Besides, someone can wear shoes a few sizes too big to disguise themselves."  
  
"Then who was with him?" Mirielle asked, "If you have it all figured out."  
  
John's lip curled, "As dad always says, it is a capital mistake to theorize before you have enough data."  
  
"He also said make your theories to suit the facts, not your facts to suit your theories," Mirielle retorted. John gaped at her; she had used his own argument against him. Seeing her brother stumped Mirielle chuckled and walked over to the videophone to call their parents.  
  
After dialing the numbers they waited only a few seconds before Sherlock answered, "Hello?" he said seemingly distracted by something.  
  
"Hi Dad," Mirielle smiled cheerfully, giving her brother a look that could kill. "Dad," she smirked, "John seems to think that our culprit is M'sieur Dante, but I believe it's the Phantom, well one of them anyway."  
  
"And?" Sherlock said looking at them with a confused, but strangely amused look on his face.  
  
"We want to know who is right," John said, now standing behind his sister.  
  
Sherlock turned around from the screen and walked into the other room. Mirielle and John exchanged glances and waited patiently before their father returned, with their mother in tow. Beth sat in front of the screen and smiled at her children in obvious amusement. "You two need to work together. Remember, united we stand, divided we fall. There's your history lesson for today," she grinned at her baffled children.  
  
As Beth walked away from the screen Sherlock stayed behind, "Maybe you two should follow your leads separately. By the way, I'm sorry for your mother, but I couldn't resist telling her," he chuckled as they disconnected.  
  
John plopped back down on the chair and sighed, "What a help that was."  
  
"Shut up," Mirielle replied haughtily. "Well, do we listen to Mum, or Dad?"  
  
They both pondered the thought for a while before John spoke up, "Dad's advice seemed the best. After all, if we both follow different trails then we could validate or disprove our theories separately."  
  
"It's a plan then," Mirielle's eyes sparkled with the thrill of the challenge. While this case could make her career in New London, she wanted to work in Paris. Shoving that thought aside she decided it was about time to get ready.  
  
Straightening his bowtie a malicious smirk crossed his face. His suit, pure black aside from the scarlet handkerchief with the initials M.C. embroidered with white thread in his pocket, made his already pale skin have a certain shine to it, making it look like marble. Smoothing out the front Dante came into the room, "I'm leaving now," he announced.  
  
"And you needed to tell me because?" he snapped back, his black eyes flashing red for a second. "I swear you grow more stupid with each passing day," he chuckled at the befuddled Dante.  
  
He ran his hand over his neatly combed hair while watching Dante slip through in the reflection of the mirror. As the door clicked shut he broke into peels of laughter. If only he could see them all in their beds crying out in pain, withering in their own sorrow.  
  
He could only imagine what was happening right now. He could see that woman shrieking in pain while her husband, too weak to move, could only watch her die. Their children, he imagined, were meeting similar fates. If he could only watch and see them suffer, the rush it would give him. Wiping an amused tear from the corner of his eye he grabbed his coat and exited the apartment, hoping that his plan had carried through without a snag.  
  
While walking down the streets watching the people watch him he wished he had saved some of the solution just to see what it would do. He knew what the text books said, but to witness it first hand, a shiver passed through his body. He clenched his fists as he walked along, just visualizing the gruesome scenes made a cruel smile crawl across his face.  
  
"This will be the end of them," he said to himself. A stranger walking past gave him a strange look and received a look colder than ice, by which the stranger was reduced to shoving his hands in his pockets and speeding his pace along. "The De Chagnies will have their revenge," he proclaimed to himself, followed by a chuckle.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------  
  
Michael peeked into his parent's bedroom. Aidan told him that their parents wanted to talk with him. He looked in to see his mother begin to sit up. Erika flashed a small smile at her son and motioned him closer. Michael cautiously approached the bed. Erika smiled as Michael sat on the edge of the bed.  
  
"How are you, Mama?" Michael asked.  
  
"I'm fine. In slight pain but that is all. How is everyone?" Erika smiled.  
  
"Christine and Grandpapa are making an antidote as we speak. Aidan is... occupied." Michael told her.  
  
"Why do I think that it's something I'm not going to be happy about?"  
  
"Because," James grumbled as he sat up to join his wife, "You know our sons very well. Michael, I want to talk to you."  
  
"I know, Papa." Michael sighed knowing what was coming.  
  
"Michael, do you want to take over for me if I retire?" James asked him softly.  
  
Michael was silent as his heart and head fought over the answer. He didn't want to stay as a criminal his whole life. He wanted to do something else. Something like what Mama does when she can. Determined he looked at his parent and shook his head.  
  
"I see." James remarked, "I expected as much."  
  
Michael felt the need to explain, "I don't mind it, Papa, but it doesn't fit me. I want so much more than to be on the run all the time. I want to stay in one place and make my mark there."  
  
"Then what do you want to do?" Erika interjected gently.  
  
"Christine and I were talking. Mama she doesn't want to be the Phantom. She wants to sing and travel. I can understand that feeling. Christine doesn't want to disappoint you, but she doesn't feel ready."  
  
"What are you suggesting, Michael?" James grinned knowing where this was going.  
  
"I want to be The Phantom, Mama, Papa. I want to take over the mask." Michael declared, "I have the training and even helped Christine at times."  
  
"If that is your wish," Erika grinned, "So be it."  
  
Michael smiled, "I guess I need to convince the managers to give me a job."  
  
"I don't think it will be that hard." James grinned at his son, "They've been after your mother for years to let them recruit you for the orchestra."  
  
"I'll set up an appointment with them after this fiasco is over with." Erika yawned as she leaned against his husband's shoulder.  
  
Michael stood up to give his parent's some peace. He nearly made it to the door when his Father called out to him. Michael turned and looked at James. James grinned to himself. Michael would make an excellent Phantom. Even his looks seem to say that that was to be his fate.  
  
"I'm proud of you, my boy." James told him, "Not many people embrace their fate when it's given to them. Go and give the de Chagnies hell."  
  
Michael smiled at his father and bowed. James grinned into his wife's hair. They were lucky to have such talented children.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------  
  
Akeem looked at the sword in his best friend's hand worriedly. Michael made a few test swipes through the air. Satisfied with the weight and flexibility of the sword, he turned to face his dear friend. Akeem sighed as Michael took a fighting stance.  
  
"May I protest this need to work off your anger on me?" Akeem stated softly.  
  
"You can, but will I listen?" Michael smiled, "Humor me, Khan. I need an outlet."  
  
"My uncle would like me to stay in one piece for tonight's performance." Akeem reminded him, "Will the Phantom be in attendance?"  
  
"Has he missed a performance yet?" Michael grinned.  
  
Akeem saluted his friend with the practice sword. They touched the tips and began to practice. Mirielle watched the two men cross swords from a distance. Michael moved around the stage with the grace of a feline. He was sleek and smooth as he dodged Akeem's offensives. Mirielle felt her heart speed up as she watched Michael fight his best friend. While Akeem was an expert swordsman, it was obvious he was nowhere near the level of Michael. After Michael disarmed him the two shook hands and Akeem was already backing away, making excuses. Mirielle decided to take a break and walk towards Michael who was practicing alone.  
  
"Bonjour, Michael." Mirielle greeted only to have a sword pointed at her. Michael lowered his sword as he drank in her beauty. He could easily see the uneasiness in her eyes. Right now in the middle of all the crises around him and someone trying to harm his family, he wanted her. He wanted her so badly it ached in him. Michael knew that when she walked away from him, he won't be able to move on from her. Distantly he wondered if his parents felt this way when they first met.  
  
"Um... Michael?" Mirielle repeated.  
  
Michael shook his head and came back to Earth, "Bonjour, Mirielle. I'm sorry I just had a lot on my mind."  
  
"Yes well, I was wondering if I could speak with your mother again." Mirielle asked gently.  
  
"I'm sorry, ma chère, but she is indisposed right now." Michael informed her.  
  
"For how long?"  
  
"I do not know." Michael growled, "She has taken ill."  
  
Mirielle jumped at the snarl in his voice, "I'm sorry."  
  
Michael sighed knowing he shouldn't snap at her, "It's all right, chère. I'm just worried is all."  
  
"You have every right to be." Mirielle agreed, "Maybe when she is better..."  
  
"Maybe, Now Excuse me Mirielle, I have to get ready for tonight's performance of My Fair Lady."  
  
Michael brushed by her and hurried off stage. Mirielle watched him go feeling confused and scared. Did she do something wrong? He seemed so angry just then.  
  
Michael grumbled to himself later as he sat in Christine's dressing room. His little sister was currently busy at her vanity. Her eyes avoided him. She was grateful that he was taking over for him. But what was the cost to him?  
  
Christine looked at him in to mirror. Carefully he adjusted the cloak and bent to pick up the mask. Akeem told her that Michael brushed off Mirielle earlier. Christine suspected he was preparing for the moment when she turned away. It wasn't fair. He deserved to be happy with the girl he loved. Christine applied the charcoal to her cheeks to give them a dirtied look. When she was done she took a deep breathe and turned around.  
  
"Merci, Michael." Christine whispered.  
  
Michael's fingers grazed the mask once before picking it up, "This was my destiny, Christine. You deserve to be free."  
  
"Still you deserve to be happy. I mean Adian has Jessamine. I have my art. What about you?"  
  
Michael smiled, "I will have my theater and an angel to look over. Leroux told me she is thinking of staying."  
  
Christine stood up, "You are worried?"  
  
Michael sighs, "I think she is staying because of me. What will happen when she finds out the truth?"  
  
Christine smiled as she hugged him, "She will stay. She has a chance to grow here and she knows it. It doesn't depend on you."  
  
Michael hugged her back, "Come, little sister. It's time for the final act."  
  
Christine let go as Michael disappeared through the mirror. She smiled to herself. Everything will work out. It has too. A knocking at the door drew her attention. Carefully, Christine opened the door to stare at the end of a pistol. Dante grinned maliciously at her and motioned that she back up.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------  
  
Aidan stretched as he walked around the backstage area. Next to him, Jessamine was looking over the list Krissy gave of what they needed to do. Feeling proud of himself he slipped his arm around her. Once he explained everything to her, Jessamine was actually pleased to hear who his father was. She was even honored that James Moriarty's son even fancied her. Aidan tried not to beam too proudly but he couldn't help the smile on his face. Finally he found a girl with some sense.  
  
Jessamine leaned against Aidan as she studied the list. She couldn't believe how much her life changed in the past two hours. Aidan, her Aidan, was the son of James Moriarty and Erika Noir. Erika was the Phantom, well, for now. Soon Michael would be wearing the mask for his mother. Jessamine smiled, Michael suited the part of the Phantom while Aidan would be an excellent criminal mastermind. Even now, he was plotting way to protect his sister from Dante. Jessamine's eyes light up on one item.  
  
"Aidan," Jessamine called to him.  
  
"Yes, my little thief." Aidan beamed.  
  
Jessamine grinned at the nickname, "Krissy wants us to retrieve your sister."  
  
"Does she?" Aidan peered over and smiled, "We probably should go and wish the vixen luck."  
  
"Break a leg, Aidan" Jessamine corrected him playfully, "You say break a leg."  
  
"I'm not saying that. She is a miserable patient." Aidan teased as he walked up to the door of Christine's dressing room. The sound of Arguing voices were heard coming from inside. Aidan's eyes narrowed as he gently tried the door to find it locked. Motioning Jessamine to step back Aidan aimed a strong kick at the weakest point by the hinges. Silently he thanked his Uncle Nadir for teaching him karate. Just as the door hit the ground, Aidan lunged for Dante who looked very pale.  
  
Suddenly the ionser fired. Aidan felt the burning sensation in his shoulder and his body flying back at the sudden change in force. Distantly he heard His sister and Jessamine scream. As he hit the ground, he saw the mirror begin to change.  
  
A tall figure in black stepped through with it sword drawn. Aidan smiled as his sister joined his side. Jessamine flanked his other side. The three stared at Dante who tried to fire at Michael who easily deflected the shot back hitting Dante in the hand.  
  
Dante wildly was looking around. Sensing he was trapped ran out the door. Michael hesitated, concern showing in his bright green eyes.  
  
Aidan shouted, "I'm fine, Michael. Go get him!!"  
  
Michael nodded and ran out. Aidan felt proud of him as he watched Michael chase after Dante. The moment was cut short as Christine went to inspect his wound. Aidan growled loudly scaring Jessamine while Christine remained unaffected.  
  
"It looks nasty." Christine commented as she ripped his shirt away, "Good thing Mama will be up in no time."  
  
Aidan grumbled, "I'll be fine. Tis but a scratch."  
  
"And who are you now, The Black Knight?" Christine shot back as she looked behind her to see the cavalry coming.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------------  
  
Mirielle and John stood in front of Krissy, both in their evening clothes. Mirielle played with the fabric of her dress. In the pit of her stomach she had a terrible feeling. She didn't know why, but she could feel something and it was making her sick. "Mir?" John questioned quirking a concerned eyebrow at his sister.   
  
Shaking her head Mirielle turned back to him and their query, "Oh yea...I'm fine," she drifted off as her eyes wandered around the room. Krissy stood looking at the two of them with her arms crossed and foot tapping. She looked at Mirielle and sighed, the nervous glitter in her eyes was apparent as they darted from corner to corner.   
  
Coming closer to John Krissy whispered, "Is she alright?" Her voice was tinted with a bit of concern as Mirielle raised her hand to her mouth and started to chew her fingernails. With a shrug John sent another glance his sister's way before sending his own glances around the stage. He was receptive to Mirielle's obvious anxiety and he wished for once he could tell what she was thinking.   
  
"Now Miss Krissy," John began as he mentally slapped himself out of his train of thought, "We have a good idea of the situation around the Opera house, however there are still things that are rather foggy..." his voice was silenced by an ear deafening sound that seemed to ring out from somewhere in the dressing rooms.   
  
Mirielle's stomach lurched. The voice in her head telling her that was what she had feared. 'What if Michael is hurt?!' was the first thought that came to her mind. She remembered Dante's ill-will towards Michael, Christine, and their brother and her eyes clouded momentarily. Stuck in her place, her heart beat rapidly, not knowing what to do.  
  
With a moment of hesitation, Krissy was the first one to spring from her spot and head towards where the sound had come from. John quickly followed behind her, the thought of Christine and her safety fresh in his mind. After Krissy and John had left the room, Mirielle snapped out of her freeze and followed, trying to keep herself balanced in her heels.  
  
With a bit of difficulty she caught up to the other two as they stood in a stand still. "What's wro..." she stopped talking as she looked over Krissy's shoulder. Her jaw dropped, Christine's arms were covered in her brother's blood, not Michael but the other while she saw a fleeting figure out of the corner of her eye.   
  
Mirielle saw him, she saw the man she had chased in New London running out of the theatre. Kicking off her heels she started after him, her dress fluttered in the wind as she exited through the back door behind The Phantom who seemed to be chasing someone else.  
  
"Stop! Police!" Mirielle shouted as she ran as fast as she could in her dress.  
  
The Phantom looked back at her underneath a street light; those green eyes flashed quickly as he turned back and continued to run. The dark streets of Paris were lit by street lamps that cast a dim light on them as they sprinted through the streets.  
  
The figure that The Phantom was chasing suddenly tripped and someone else jumped out of a side alley but The Phantom did not cease to run. Mirielle looked to the side as she passed, Krissy was on top of Dante pinning him to the ground as he struggled against her, "Let me go!" his voice was raspy as she straddled him restraining his arms.  
  
"No chance in Hell," Krissy replied as she took electrical tape out of her pocket and started to tape his hands together right after placing some tape over his mouth. Smirking she set to work bonding his limbs together to get him into a desired state.  
  
"Stop!" Mirielle yelled as she was gaining on him. The cape The Phantom wore billowed out behind him creating the fleeting villain look. With determination in her eyes Mirielle got a sudden burst of speed and gained ground on the mysterious stranger who she knew was a key part to her mystery, the key to her success. "Stop in the name of New Scotland Yard!" she screeched as she dove for the figure.  
  
As they toppled forward Michael made sure his mask stayed in place. He looked into the face of Mirielle with a sad heart, 'It's now or never,' he told himself. Getting up off the ground he reluctantly held out his hand for Mirielle, she declined and stood on her own, "It seems you have caught me Mademoiselle," he said frowning.  
  
Mirielle whipped out her Darbies and looked at the Phantom, "Remove your mask," she ordered firmly, wishing she had her ionizer with her.  
  
(A/N: Handcuffs were called "Darbies" because a man with the surname Darby invented them.)  
  
Without a second thought Michael removed it, revealing himself to her. He bowed slowly and solemnly said, "Now you see Mademoiselle, things are not always as they appear."  
  
Mirielle staggered backwards. She knew things were too good to be true, this always happened to her, so close to something and then its ripped away.  
  
"Michael," she breathed, barely audible. Her eyes blurred with confusion.  
  
'How could this be?' she asked herself, 'It doesn't make any sense.' With a heavy heart she looked him square in the eyes, "I still have to arrest you," she walked towards him holding out the handcuffs.  
  
"I'm afraid I can't let you do that Mirielle," with that he threw down a smoke bomb. The street was filled with smoke before Mirielle knew it she was coughing up a storm. Standing up straight after the smoke cleared she looked around, he was gone. Tears once again clouded her eyes, the pain of losing the one she had learned to love and her case at the same time overwhelmed her as she wearily walked down the streets to the hotel to get ready to pack. She never wanted to leave anywhere more desperately than she wanted to leave Paris at that very minute.  
  
"What am I going to tell Uncle Etienne?" she muttered to herself as her bare feet hit the soggy ground. Shaking her head she dejectedly sighed heading towards the hotel, as she walked along a light snow started to fall, the gray sky just as dark and depressed as Mirielle's mood.  
  
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-  
  
MW (looks at the readers) What? Oh you expected there to be another chapter, because I'm trying to finish this thing up. Well, I'm not doing it until you review each chapter. That way I know you are not cheating and just skipping to the end. Well, The sooner you review the sooner I'll post.  
  
A: You are evil.  
  
MW: Where do you think Nightmare gets it from? 


	12. Chapter 12

Angelina bounces out followed by MW: She's excited, it's the last chappy!  
  
Angie: (seizes bouncing and frowns )OH NO! No more Michael, no more Mirielle, no John... no Christine.. (sighs) Its sad!  
  
MW: (smirks evilly) I wouldn't say that! Wait until August!  
  
Wandering Children  
  
Chapter 12- The Prologue  
  
-----------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Aidan sighed as Christine got up from his side. He watched her walk out the room and smiled, she looked so grown up. He could hardly believe she was the little sister he had spent his years with. Turning his head he looked at the sling that Jessamine and Christine had secured for him. "I'll be right back Aidan," Jessamine smiled tenderly at him before gently touching his cheek and getting up from the floor to leave the room.   
  
Aidan watched her go and he tried to sit up, but the pain in his shoulder prevented him from such a movement. A disgruntled snort emitted from his nose as he used his other arm to prop himself up against the wall. "Take it easy or you'll never get better," another voice said. Aidan looked around the room and smirked seeing his father standing in the doorway.   
  
"Papa," Aidan grinned as he finally got into a comfortable position, "I'm invincible." With a chuckle he looked up at his father, whose foot was in some of the blood that still dirtied the floor. "Your boots going to get ruined," he pointed out.   
  
James snorted at his son's comment, "I'm not worried about my boot right now Aidan," crouching by his son he smirked, "I see the girls took care of you," he motioned towards the sling.   
  
Laughing he nodded his head in agreement, "Oui Papa, the girls did take it upon themselves to bandage me up; although I insisted I was going to be fine." With a smirk he added, "A reference to the Black Knight was made."  
  
Ruffling his son's hair James stood up from his crouched position and stood near the mirror. "Just make sure you don't strain yourself, trust me, you're better off healing quickly than prolonging it."  
  
Aidan smirked, "Advice from experience?" he questioned with an amused expression decorating his face, which had a few lines of blood on it from when the girls were tapping his cheeks.  
  
"The best kind," James grinned as the mirror started to change. Before disappearing behind the mirror he turned back to his son and grinned, "One last thing, you need a new partner." With that said the father disappeared behind the mirror, leaving his son on the floor with his thoughts.  
  
Just as Aidan was about to hoist himself up with his right arm, he cursed Dante for shooting him in his dominant arm, Jessamine walked back into the room. She smiled and kneeled back on the ground next to him.  
  
"Je suis désolée," Jessamine grinned, "I had to help Krissy with something. I hope you weren't too bored while I was gone."  
  
Chuckling he took her hand and laced his fingers with hers. He grinned as a blush crept forward on her cheeks. "I was just thinking on something." She tilted her head to the side and Aidan smiled a mysterious and mischievous twinkle in his eye. "How do you think 'Jessamine and Aidan, partners in crime' sounds?"  
  
James watched from behind the mirror and he smiled as Jessamine flung herself at his son, received by a wince of pain. James laughed as she recoiled and he saw her pepper his son with apologies, softer hugs, and butterfly kisses. "You did good son," he said to himself proudly before descending down into the underground house.  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------  
  
Mirielle left John in the hotel room. She told him this was something she needed to do alone. With a regretful sigh she had opened the door of the hovercraft and sat in the driver's seat. She remembered how it was in New London, if she had ever been upset, or in a fight with her mother, or anyone for that matter, she would climb into the car and just drive. But right now, she needed some support. Driving down the surprisingly quiet Parisian streets she stopped in front of the large brick building and sighed, "It's now or never."   
  
She climbed out of the car and dragged herself to the door. With a heavy heart she knocked quietly. "I should have figured he's not home..." she said sadly as she went to turn away, but then the door creaked open before she stepped off the stoop.  
  
"Tic," Leroux greeted her as she turned around, that look of solemn melancholy still plastered on her face. "Tic, what's wrong?" concern tinged his voice as she walked into the flat without a word and sat down on the couch. Grabbing a cup from the cupboard Leroux poured some freshly brewed tea and handed it to her, "Now what's wrong?" he asked again.  
  
"Oh Uncle Etienne," she groaned as she set the tea down on the coffee table, not even taking a sip of the warm and steamy liquid. "I messed up..." she sighed, slouching down and sinking into the soft mass of sofa underneath her.   
  
A sympathetic smile crossed the older man's face, "We all mess up sometimes Tic, its part of life." He couldn't help but smile as she looked so much like her mother for a brief second as an irritated grunt escaped her and she crossed her arms. Furrowed brows and pursed lips decorated her red and miserable face as he saw the tears beginning to well up in her eyes as she tried to blink them away.   
  
"No Uncle Etienne," she growled angrily. "Dad doesn't mess up, and neither does Mum! They always figure it out and they always get the good end of the deal! Why did I mess up Uncle Etienne, why?!" She continued to hold back her angry tears. Everything was so confusing for her. "I'm sorry Uncle, but I can't work here in Paris. I need to go home," she held herself firm, although her voice lightly cracked.  
  
Ettiene was about to speak when a soprano voice rang out, "Then Mademoiselle Holmes, it is a sad day for my city."  
  
Mirielle's head snapped up as the blue-eyed Phantom walked in. With an elegant grace, the Phantom sat down across from her and crossed his legs. Mirielle felt such loathing right now for him. Her eyes narrowed at him while the Phantom merely smiled. Raising a hand, it removed it's mask.  
  
Mirielle nearly fainted as Erika Noir stared back at her. The diva was the Phantom. Erik removed the black hat as well, allowing her dark curls to flow around her face. Mirielle looked at her uncle who returned with a cup for Erika. He was completely at ease with Erika.  
  
Mirielle jumped up, "What is going on?"  
  
Erika smiled sadly at her, "Sit my dear. I think it's high time I told you a story."  
  
"Michael is the Phantom." Mirielle tried to reason, "He was wearing the mask. He was the one who broke into Downing street. How could you be the same?"  
  
"It's simple, I'm the real one. My son is merely preparing for taking over for me. He was taking my place when I was poisoned."  
  
"I'm such a fool. My parents would never have fallen for any of this." Mirielle groaned as she sank into her seat, "You must have thought I was such a little girl."  
  
"Why are you beating yourself up, little Holmes?"  
  
"I failed, utterly failed. There is no way I can retrieve the information or arrest the culprit," Mirielle cried softly.  
  
"You didn't fail. You help save a young lady's life and your brother saved my daughter from harm." Erika reminded her, "For that I'm in your debt. So what if my sons got away? You saved two lives that would have been lost if you didn't come."  
  
Mirielle looked at Erika's serene face, "But Michael..."  
  
"I know you are hurting. I can't tell you how to heal a broken heart. The best thing is to move on and make changes. My son had no right to hurt you and I can't ask you to forgive him. I'm only asking that you think things through."  
  
"I can't stay here. It's too hard."  
  
"I know. I had a hard time returning to a place that I had run from, but I learned running away doesn't change anything, In fact it makes things worse. I know your mother, Mirielle."  
  
"My mother wouldn't have screwed up this badly."  
  
"She did once, just as I did. No one is perfect Mirielle. Your parents had as hard of a time unwrapping the mystery of the Opera House as you did and they stumbled. My own husband did."  
  
Mirielle looked in shock as Erika's gloved hands reached forward and gripped hers. Erika smiled softly, "You must find your own way, my child. Your own destiny. Christine's is to be a singer. Michael's is to be the Phantom and Aidan's is to follow his father. Your brother's is to be a detective and yours is what you want it to be. Don't run away to New London when Paris needs a mind like yours."  
  
"If you are trying to get me to stay because of Michael..."  
  
"No, chère. I want you to stay because my city needs its own Holmes. You can do great things here. I hope you will think about it." Erika assured her before standing up, "Now I must go before James worries. Right now Nadir is distracting him with Michael's depression. Au Revior, Etienne, Mirielle. And remember your parents cast a long shadow in New London."  
  
With that said, Erika walked out. Mirielle watched her go feeling a little bit better. Etienne smiled as some of the melancholy left her face. Erika was good at bringing people back to their original purpose.  
  
--------------------------------------------------------------------------  
  
Christine stood nervously on the stage as John walked towards her. This was it. He was going back to New London having been pulled from the case. She felt sad that he failed and yet happy that her family was still safe for now. Christine looked at him with wide blue eyes, hoping that he will at least confirm that they will meet again.  
  
John looked at the young woman in front of him and prayed to find the strength to say good bye without looking too much like a fool. Taking a deep breathe, John took her hands into his. Their eyes met and John felt his heart speed up.  
  
"You are leaving now?" Christine asked softly.  
  
: Yes, My shuttle leaves in an hour." John replied just as soft, "Christine I want you to come with me."  
  
"I'm sorry, but I can't. My family needs me while Aidan recovers." Christine reasoned as she looked away.  
  
John brought her hands up to his sight. He could still see them stained with blood as she tried to stop the bleeding. In his heart he knew that they would be apart. He was needed in New London by his father and she still had much to learn from her mother. John looked beyond her to where Michael stood looking forlorn. He knew something happened between Michael and Mirielle but neither would speak of it. And somehow John could understand that it was between them. Maybe he was growing up.  
  
"I will hear from you, oui?" Christine whispered as she hugged him.  
  
John hugged her back inhaling her sweet lilac scent, "Yes, I promise to write you when I can."  
  
Christine smiled, "Letter writing? How sweet. I look forward to it. And I will write you back"  
  
John grinned, "I'll look forward to that. I will read every review about you."  
  
Christine getting into the spirit, "Maybe my mother's friend Lea will let me join the traveling troupe. They go to New London a lot."  
  
"Then I won't miss a single performance." John promised, "Please think of me Christine. I know I won't forget you."  
  
Christine smiled radiantly at him, "Oui, my knight."  
  
Feeling rebellious and daring for a second time in Paris, John pulled Christine and gently touched her lips with his. Michael quirked an eyebrow but didn't object. He knew his little sister cared for the Holmes boy. Besides how could he deny her happiness? Aidan joined his brother. He knew what Michael was going through and with his good hand put a hand on his shoulder. Michael looked up at Aidan, whose arm was still in a sling. Gently he smiled to show that despite everything he was still the same.  
  
Christine pulled away from John who hesitantly backed away. She fought the tears until he was gone. Turning, she walked towards her brother. Michael hugged her close offering comfort that she wasn't alone.  
  
"His sister is staying. Her first day is tomorrow." Christine whispered to Michael. Aidan merely smirked as an idea flashed through Michael's mind. Aidan chuckled. He knew his brother wasn't going to stay away from the detective for long.  
  
------------------------------------------  
  
Taking a deep breath she opened the door of the building. Looking down she looked at her new uniform. It wasn't as good as her New Scotland Yard one, but she would get used to it and hopefully be promoted quickly. Looking from side to side she stepped in, her new boots hitting the unfamiliar territory. As she walked further into the lobby she brushed against someone. He quietly pardoned himself and for a short second.   
  
She looked at the stranger, he was wearing black pants and she could see a hint of a blue shirt, which poked out from underneath his jacket. She thought nothing of the black muffler which covered the bottom half of his face, nor the cap which covered the top. The only thing that really stood out to her were the piercing green eyes that jumped out at her. For one brief moment she had hoped it was Michael, but then pushed the thought aside as she heard someone say, "Mademoiselle Holmes?"   
  
Tearing attention from the stranger she looked at the male inspector's badge. "Yes, Inspector Javert," she said looking up to his face. Biting back her smile she noticed his outlandish sideburns and cold eyes. She studied him for another second; his hair was dark and combed neatly, his uniform crisp and clean. He was probably the model officer in this branch of the police force. "I'd like to know where my work station is," she asked in a polite, but cool voice.   
  
"Of course Mademoiselle," he nodded curtly and turned on his heel. He walked stiffly, with an air of supremacy about him as he led her towards another part of the station. She noticed a desk with 'Holmes,' written on the name plate, and flowers settled on. 'Uncle Leroux,' she thought with a smile.   
  
Then, another officer sauntered up. Fox-like in appearance, he smirked as he hit Javert on the back, "Javert," his voice was hinted with mockery as he slapped the disgruntled man on the back, "back to being the gentleman I see?" he motioned towards Mirielle with a quick twitch of his neck.   
  
Rolling his eyes Javert stepped away from the other man, "Chauvelin," he growled, "I suggest you keep your pointed nose out of other people's business," with a quick step Mirielle walked away while the two men continue to bicker about their trivial differences.  
  
Mirielle delicately picked up the bouquet of lilies on her desk. Bringing them to her nose she closed her eyes and inhaled the scent. She grinned happily as the flowery smell flowed into her nose. She saw a small folded card fall from the bushel and she picked it up. "Catch me if you can?" she read it out loud, the red ink showing up on the card as clear as day.   
  
Suddenly, everything pulled together. The stranger, the lilies, the note, the phrase! It all hit her and she looked down at the flowers, which she had dropped at the moment of her revelation. A sad smile crossed her face as she sat down in her chair. She knew she would most likely never see Michael again... she had come to at least deal with that as best she could, but she knew she wouldn't be the only one thinking about the few wonderful weeks that had been shared under the strange circumstances that surrounded their meeting. 


End file.
